Hunger and Need
by Rain77
Summary: Vash and Meryl. 'Nuff said. Spoilers if you haven't seen the whole series yet. [Complete]
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I owned Vash. *hehe*  
  
Chapter 1  
  
I spent a long time in the desert after I shot Knives. The bitter winds, the stinging sands, the unforgiving suns. My only company - aside from my psychotic, thankfully unconscious brother - were my thoughts. It was a long time to be out there. Alone.  
  
Okay, okay, maybe two weeks, but hey, two weeks is a long time to go without donuts!  
  
But if there was one thing I learned while I was out there it was that I felt two things. Three if you count the damn, unholy weight of my unconscious brother. But I'm going off into a tangent again. So back to where I was. . .  
  
There were two things I felt out there in the desert: hunger and need.  
  
Now this wasn't hunger for salmon sandwiches, mind you, although I could have done with those, though I still wonder about where they get salmon sandwiches out in the middle of the desert but why question food? It wasn't the kind of hunger for donuts even. And the need! Dear gods! The need! I didn't need water or food or any sort of physical sustenance. It was deeper in the gut, no longer physical or spiritual but both. I had felt it settle in once I had walked away to confront my brother.  
  
I could solve it easily. It was a simple enough problem and I already knew the answer. But damn it all, there was this ironic twist that was just killer. Ready for it? Are you sure? Alright, here's the kicker. It was a hunger and need that I knew would never be satisfied because I knew there was only one cure for it and it was never going to be mine.  
  
Heh. I rushed that. But I thought I should be melodramatic while I'm at it. People expect that of me, notorious outlaw that I am.  
  
I think that was the closest I could come to defining it. Out in the desert, with Knives slung on my back, unconscious and heavy as sin, I thought of those two things. Hunger. And need.  
  
Funny that I never noticed it before. I mean, come on! How could I have not noticed that this was deeper than donuts!  
  
***  
  
"Hello Mr. Vash!" Milly calls out to me gaily as I approach. She barely blinks at the heavy burden I settle gently my side. Knives is still groggy, still incoherent. I give her my trademark smile and the 'love and peace' gesture.  
  
"Yo! Milly, Meryl!" I answer cheerily. "Do you have any donuts?"  
  
"Oooh!" Mily says, innocent as always. "He looks just like you, Mr. Vash."  
  
"It's not like he came back with a baby, Milly," Meryl snaps tersely. She still hasn't looked at me and I wonder if she's angry.  
  
Milly titters. "I know that sempai, but they look almost like twins."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." She starts to turn that face to me, that face that reminds me of all the good things Rem was and all the beauty this world is. But just now there isn't beauty and I draw back instantly. Oh hell. She's bristling like a wet cat. "And you! Humanoid Typhoon," she snorts. "What the hell took you so long?"  
  
I smile down at her feeling suddenly sheepish and nervous. "I, uh. . ."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," she says already turning away and waving her hand over her shoulder. "Come on. You probably need a bed for your brother."  
  
"I, Meryl -" I feel the need to explain why my brother is in this condition, why I'm no longer wearing the red coat, why - why the hell was she so angry? "It was only two weeks, Meryl," I pout.  
  
"I was worried about you," she retorts angrily. I flinch expecting her fist to connect with my head. Funny how she could still give me a bump on the head even if I'm so much taller than her. "Come on. You're staying with us. I'll be damned if I let you out of my sight again."  
  
I follow her grumbling form willingly. A stirring of hope begins in me - she was worried about me? - but is quickly squashed down. She probably only wants to keep me close because that's her job after all. No, she wasn't being extra caring. She's just doing her duty, like I have to do mine.  
  
***  
  
"Eh?" Milly says in wonderment.  
  
It is my third case of donuts and I feel no need to stop.  
  
"Well it's like this," I say between bites. "Knives." Chomp. "Brother." Chomp. "I want." Chomp. "To help him." Chomp. "Slightly evil." Chomp. "And -"  
  
"What?" Meryl screams.  
  
I wince. Ooops. I said that last thing out loud. "What I mean is that, he's just lost the way. Misunderstood. You know. Lost," I finish weakly. I swallow the lump of dough that had stuck in my throat. "Donut?"  
  
"And you intend to nurse him back to health and make him all good and pure. Is that it? Is that it?"  
  
I grin, hoping the smile looks reassuring. Bonk. "Ow! Meryl! Why'd you have to hit me for?"  
  
"For being an idiot you broomhead," she says.  
  
There is silence in the room and I can sense Milly looking from me to Meryl to me to Meryl again, hesitant. "Ano . . ." she says.  
  
"I guess you want me to leave then," I sigh to Meryl. I toss the last donut in my mouth and swallow hastily. Bonk. "OW! What the hell, woman?"  
  
"Who said anything about you leaving? I just said you were an idiot."  
  
"But - "  
  
"Knives can permanently have my room. I don't want to sleep in it after he's been - " her mouth twisted distastefully. "I don't want to sleep in there anymore. You keep your room. I'll move in with Milly."  
  
"But - "  
  
She raised her fist. "What?"  
  
"Uh, thanks."  
  
"Good."  
  
A/N: More to come when I have time and when I feel the need to procrastinate again. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I owned Vash. *hehe*  
  
Author's Notes: Thank you for being kind everyone! As you can see, chapter two is already up. Reason? I have a midterm in two days. Must procrastinate and not study. Hehehe. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 2  
  
So it's been two months now. Knives is. . .is being his sweet sensitive self. Hah! Right! I think he takes perverse pleasure in glaring at everyone and everything. That's the first thing he did when he woke up, by the way. About three or so weeks ago, he opened his eyes and he glared. First at me with that 'oh I am going to hurt you so much you bastard not worthy to be called a Plant' look. Then at Milly who didn't seem to notice the look. Milly, gods bless her sweet little heart, just smiled at him and tried to feed him some tomato soup by pretending that the spoon was an airship. Needless to say, that didn't turn out too well. Then the glare was directed at Meryl.  
  
Now this is where the fun really begins! (Gods, when did I become so masochistic?) Meryl. . . glared right back. You could feel the lightning strikes coming from those two and the storm clouds almost brewing. I mean it. Milly and I both unconsciously backed up a step at that look. The tension in the room was so thick my hand even twitched to my side where the gun would have been.  
  
Meryl wasn't the least bit afraid of him. And even if she was, she didn't show it. I think maybe she wanted to dare him to do something. I've seen Meryl after she's gone in to bring him a tray of food. Whew! If looks could kill, I don't think any of my bullets could have saved me. I think even Knives knew that too. Meryl might not look imposing, but when she glares, you can't help but be afraid.  
  
Yet the look doesn't hide the fact that she's an amazing woman. I don't know if Wolfwood had meant *her* specifically when he said women were amazing. I know she is. She doesn't show it so easily, but I know that she's patient and caring and wonderful. And beautiful and gracious. . .and oh gods, I so wish I could just take her in my arms and hold her. Oh, bad thought, bad thought! Whenever I think of holding her, I feel that burn deep in my gut again, that hunger and need that had been in the desert.  
  
It's been especially bad lately. In the beginning I had been too worried about Knives and how hard - excruciatingly hard - it was going to be when he woke up. I hadn't had time to dwell on things. And now he's awake, away from weapons, and not killing anybody and I'm no longer as worried. I'll always be concerned of course, my senses always on alert for any signs of insane and homicidal behavior from him. This is Knives after all! I'd be crazy to let my guard down! But for now, he's tolerable even if he is volubly insulting, and my mind has been freed to dwell on other things. And oh boy, has it been dwelling on *other things*.  
  
Much to my utter discomfort and detriment, I've begun to notice little things that I never noticed before. How Milly sometimes looks sad in the evenings when she looks outside at the sunset. How a certain black cat has been hanging out on our porch every night. How the town no longer flinches from me. I've begun to notice so many things. But most of them have been about *her*.  
  
I've begun to notice how she leans against the sink when she's washing dishes. How she has that faraway look when she comes out of Knives' room, concerned and sad and pissed off at the same time. How she always brings me donuts in the afternoons and smirks that they're leftovers though they are still warm from cooking. How her hair smells glorious in the morning. How the bathroom is steamy and smelling of her shampoo. How my skin tingles knowing she is in the same room with me. How I mouth her name sometimes - Meryl - and smile even without meaning to. I tried not to notice. But damn it! I can't help the way I feel.  
  
Then the dreams came.  
  
Now you might think I'm a pervert because of this. I mean, Meryl already thinks I am. In fact she reminds me almost daily that I'm a menace to society and a pervert. How do you like that? The woman I love thinks I'm a menace to society *and* a pervert. Does every guy go through this or am I just extra special? But the dreams can't be helped.  
  
They vary from one dream to another but they always end the same way. Me. Her. In my bed. I tell her I love her. She says, Vash make love to me. I don't care anymore, just love me. I nod my head, my heart is racing so fast. Then my hands go to the buttons of her blouse, I bend my head to claim her lips, and . . . and . . . I wake up.  
  
Who's the pervert now? Who's the pervert now?  
  
It never goes beyond that point I bend to kiss her. I startle myself awake most times thinking that Meryl's going to bash my head in for sure this time.  
  
But sometimes, just sometimes, I so wish that dream would continue. I so wish that I could tell her I love her and need her and hunger for her. And just once, just once I would have liked to make love to her and her to me. If only in the brief unreality that is my dreams.  
  
But dear gods, the mind has a perverse sense of humor and the dream ends the same every night. Me. Her. My bed. And an almost kiss that never happens.  
  
A/N: Awww.Vash loves Meryl! Vash loves Meryl! 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)  
  
Author's Notes: Chapter Three. Reason: Procrastination because I have a paper due tomorrow. Rant: It's not a very good chapter (sorry!) because I keep feeling guilt sneaking up on me that I'm writing about Vash and Meryl and not working on my paper. Damn school! Damn school! Grrr..  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Meryl is right. I am a pervert!  
  
Okay, scratch that. My unconscious mind is a pervert. It keeps sending me those damn dreams. Like that dream last night with me and her arguing in the kitchen. She's about to bonk my head because we were arguing and the next thing I know we're on the kitchen table clawing at each other's clothes and I'm desperately trying to kiss her. Then I wake up. Again.  
  
(Hmm.I seem to remember some human man talking about the unconscious mind and how dreams are really hidden desires. Who told me that? Rem? I don't remember her telling me that. But if she did - or if I learned it somewhere else - that human man probably knew what he was talking about. Hidden desires, my ass. Yeah, my desires are hidden. Problem is that I know why they're hidden. They're hidden because of a short little woman who can give me bumps on the head even though she's half my size.)  
  
Oops. Sorry. Wandered off into a tangent again. Where was I? Oh yeah, the dreams.  
  
In the beginning the dreams were no problem. Dreaming about Meryl all sweet and gentle and kind was very nice. But the situation is getting strained and painful and I'm starting to feel . . . distracted. Scratch that. Again. I'm not so much distracted but frustrated.  
  
Dreaming about her is fine and dandy but every night I wake up from the dream with the memory of her so close and so real that it seems like I can still smell her perfume and feel the warmth of her skin. And you do *not* understand how frustrating that is. I love this woman and I want her with all my heart. But what comes with that is desire too and I desire her with all my heart as well. (Not to mention other parts of me. Bad thought, Vash! Bad thought! Ahem. . .)  
  
I need to get out. I'm starting to feel trapped. I think it's time for me to (*gasp*) get a job.  
  
Excuse me for a moment while I digest this piece of information. And a box of donuts.  
  
*******  
  
Okay. So where was I? Yeah. A job. After a moment of reflection and a box of donuts, it doesn't sound so bad. It will give me an excuse and a chance to get out of the house.  
  
I know at this point the warning bells should be going full tilt in my head. What about Knives? What about the psychotic killer now lying awake in Meryl's room? So what if Knives is awake? I say that like it's nothing. But really, at this point, he's no danger to anyone. For one thing, he's still weak and still recovering. For another, I've taken away the gun. And still another (and I feel a little guilty over this) I think I might have hurt him a little too much in our last fight. For some reason or other he falls asleep at the drop of a hat. Literally. One day Milly came in to bring him supper still in her street clothes, Knives glared at her (of course), she smiled and dropped her hat by the door, and when she looked up, he was asleep.  
  
See? Like I said. Drop of a hat. The doctor that looked at him - now that was fun, having Knives tied down on the bed just so the doctor wouldn't get hurt while examining him - said that it was perfectly normal. Turns out Knives may have been mentally as well as physically affected by our last fight. Go figure. No matter. I have to go get a job no matter what. Not just for my sake but for Meryl's too. I want to help her out. I don't want to be a moocher no matter that my reputation might imply otherwise.  
  
*******  
  
"Hello Mr. Vash!" Milly calls out cheerfully to me as she jogs towards me from the market. Peeking from the top of the grocery bag were the unmistakable containers of pudding cups. One was empty. I smile at her. Good ol' Milly.  
  
"Hey Milly."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To my new job," I grin.  
  
She looks at me with wide eyes. "Oh?"  
  
"New job?" another voice joins hers in surprise and Meryl suddenly pops up from behind her. She looks absolutely aghast. "Someone actually hired you?"  
  
I give her a hurt look. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Meryl's mouth works noiselessly and Milly looks at her and then smiles at me. "What is your job, Mr. Vash?"  
  
"I'm a bodyguard," I puff out my chest proudly. "The mayor's going to be opening a bank today. He's supposed to be the first to withdraw from the vault."  
  
"He actually hired you?" Meryl shrieks, recovering her voice. "Of all the fool things to do - "  
  
"I'm a good bodyguard," I protest.  
  
Meryl snorted in disbelief and I turn on my heel and start for the bank again, a little miffed.  
  
A sigh. "I guess I'll have to follow you to the bank then. Why can't you just stay put?" Meryl mumbles quietly.  
  
Milly giggled. "You said 'I', sempai," she smirks.  
  
I stare at her and then look at Meryl who's turned an interesting shade of red. Her mouth is opening and closing again, as if she wants to say something to Milly but can't get it past her anger.  
  
"I think you'd better go home, Meryl," I say concernedly.  
  
"Why?" she snaps angrily.  
  
Whoa! The woman was moody today! What was her problem? "Because you're getting sunburned," I said, indicating her face.  
  
Bonk.  
  
Great. Why do I even care to tell her these things when all she does is hit me. Damned abusive woman!  
  
"You keep watch over him," she orders Milly. Then with a huff, she was stalking away.  
  
Damned abusive woman, I repeat mentally. Why did I have to fall in love with *her*?  
  
Pause.  
  
Because I do. Because it's Meryl.  
  
"Uh. . ."  
  
"I guess we're stuck with each other today," I say.  
  
"I guess we are," Milly replies calmly. "Do you want one, Mr. Vash?"  
  
I look at the second pudding cup she's started on. "I don't think we're supposed to eat inside the bank, Milly."  
  
"Oh don't worry Mr. Vash. I'll be done before we're there!" she exclaims cheerfully and begins inhaling pudding.  
  
She's actually done even before we get there and was happily licking off the last traces of chocolate from the lids when I casually a question that has been dancing in my head ever since I decided to get a job. "So how are you and Meryl dealing with Knives?"  
  
"Sempai?" she asks with wide eyes. "Are you still thinking about sempai?"  
  
"I - uh - NO!" I finally burst out.  
  
Milly's face falls in disappointment and I try for a moment to ponder that look but she quickly begins to look teary eyed. Damn. I didn't mean to shout. It's the sexual frustration. Sexual? Huh? Out of the gutter, Vash! Get your mind out of the gutter! Pay attention to the situation!  
  
"No, no, no!" I protest. "I meant that I was concerned about the two of you. You know? And I was wondering how Meryl *and you* were doing."  
  
Quick as lighting, her smile returned. "Is that all?" She carefully stacked the pudding cups together. "Sempai doesn't seem to like him but I'm sure she'll get over it. And me?" She shrugged and for a moment her eyes held that sadness they always held when she looked at the sunset. "He's a very mean man. Sometimes. But I know he's good in there. Somewhere."  
  
I nod. "Exactly my point. Meryl doesn't seem to see it sometimes though."  
  
"Sempai?" she exclaims again.  
  
"Meryl?" I say out loud, turning around to check if she was there. What the hell was wrong with me today?  
  
Milly giggles again. "Are you looking for her?" she asks innocently.  
  
"I - uh - no." Great Vash. Just great. You are an articulate one aren't you? "Just looking around for the bank."  
  
Milly raises a hand, amusement dancing on her lips. Something flashes in her eyes, as if she knew more than she let on. "We're there," she says, pointing behind me.  
  
"Thanks," I grin and turn to go through the door.  
  
"Mr. Vash," Milly says and I put my hand on the handle.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
And when she spoke, there was a quiet smile in her voice. "I'm sure she thinks about you too."  
  
I turn to ask her what she was talking about, but Milly, good 'ol Milly, had turned and was already walking for a bench across the street with another pudding cup opened in her hand. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)  
  
The Real Author's Notes: Gee people! Don't take me so seriously! This is for fun, for relaxation, for. . .my sake of procrastination. Again, this is not serious fic or *L*iterature. I am not writing the Trigun equivalent of Shakespeare. I do thank the reviewers who gave some suggestions and support. I'll try to listen to some of them, but no promises. I'm a lazy writer. Don't take me wrong, I read your suggestions, I'm just 1) too lazy to follow up or 2) too lazy to follow up. *grin* Does that make me evil? Maybe. Anyway. . .Thank you faithful readers! And I do promise there is a chapter at the end of this long ass acknowledgement that follows. If you don't want to find yourself or if you're a new reader and don't care about the acknowledgements (which I must do now while I feel like it since it probably won't happen again), page down until you come to something resembling fanfiction. It's the stuff that's a little longer than the acknowledgements and less garbled. I think.  
  
Just a short response to some of my reviewers while I'm in the mood:  
  
AnonymousTrigunOtaku: Yellow fruit? What yellow fruit? *points to PG-13 rating* Nope. No yellow fruit in sight. And yes, if people here are interested in yellow fruit, I refer them to better yellow fruit writers than I or my other offering on fanfic.net.  
  
Vashie's Girl: Meryl? Is that you? May I borrow Vash for a few days?  
  
Arafel: *gasp! Pointing at the reviewer from Chapter 3* You're - you're Arafel! I've heard of you! *bows down* You're actually reading this piece of brain vomit? I am so not worthy of your attention. *grin* Anyway. . .thanks for your suggestions. I'll take some of them up when I feel the need to procrastinate again. And by the way. . .if it helps, I think I may love you as a reviewer! LOL.  
  
Roganu-chan: I agree. Awww.  
  
ivorydragon77: I also agree. Awww. If Meryl doesn't realize it, I offer my services.  
  
Ocelot: Hmm. Long chapters? I'll try but again the word is *lazy*. If you missed it the first time, read my author's notes. ^.^  
  
The Bourgeois Babe: You made my day when you first reviewed. Thank you!  
  
krazyMaze: LOL. Admit it. You liked the "naughty" dreams didn't you? Didn't you? LOL  
  
S-chan The Great: Thank you for sending me reviews but not death threats! You made me laugh so hard that people at work wondered if I had finally gone over the crazy end of the cliff.  
  
Anonymous: Hi! My name is Rain77! You're probably not going to get anybody else's POV in this fic. I decided that I wanted to *be* Vash one day and here it is. Hah! I could never be Vash, mind you. It just wouldn't happen. I'd like to own him. But that's another story.  
  
blood-lust6: Is my procrastination just the right amount?  
  
Kabashka: *hands shiny gold ball of rubber bands* You are dubbed first reviewer by Rain77. All bow to the first reviewer who made Rain's otherwise gloomy day more sunshiny! Thank you!  
  
And now, the brain vomit aka Rain's fic.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Milly pats my hand in awkward sympathy while I stare at what remains of the bank and its vault.  
  
"It's okay, Mr. Vash. It wasn't your fault the robber was carrying a pack full of explosives. I mean, he shouldn't have been carrying anything so dangerous in a pack now, should he?"  
  
My eyes automatically shift to said robber. He was still staring at the piece of rubble that was minutes ago full of cash. Next to him, the mayor had the same expression except the look on his face was mixed with relief that I had saved his life. I guess he was still trying to decide whether or not he was going to shake my hand in gratefulness or run me out of town. He was currently in a little impromptu meeting with the bank owners who frankly looked like they were in shock, their mouths agape like fish.  
  
"I mean, it's amazing really," Milly continued. "You only destroyed the bank vault. That's a good thing, right? And the mayor's okay and Mr. Robber is too. But still I think that maybe if. . ."  
  
I smile weakly at her and let her talk while I awaited my fate. I watch as people gathered in knots, talking and pointing at the sight. They weren't pointing at me per se, but they were pointing. Mostly at the damage. Sometimes at me. Great.  
  
My senses return suddenly as I catch the tail end of something Milly has said. "What? What was that?"  
  
Milly blinks at me confusedly. "Weren't you listening?"  
  
"Sure I was," I lie cheerfully. "Just got distracted."  
  
I was saying that I think sempai would be okay with all this. It's just the report that's going to be hard to write because she wasn't here."  
  
Oh no. "Milly I don't think that's such a good idea."  
  
"What do you mean, Mr. Vash?"  
  
"It's just that I think Meryl is - "  
  
"Yes?"  
  
I think she's going to kill me, I think silently. "Well, I think we should maybe just keep this - "  
  
"Vash the Stampede?" the mayor calls out as he walks towards us. Those two emotions were still warring on his face but the friendlier one seemed to have won out. Behind him the board of managers from the bank were still gaping in shock at their once pristine and whole bank.  
  
I cringe. Alright, it's time to get ready to leave town. Again. What to pack? Gun. Oil. Bullets. Sandwiches. . .  
  
"I - we - the bank - " he sputters, does a double take on the bank vault rubble and the managers, groans, and continues, "I've decided that you can work off some of the damage."  
  
Donuts. Coat. Something from Meryl's dresser. Huh? "I'm sorry. What?"  
  
"I'll pay for the damages."  
  
"You will?!" I cry enthusiastically and grab his hand to pump it up and down.  
  
He pulls away hastily. "Don't get me wrong. They said either I pay or they'll never vote for me again. I own part of the bank after all."  
  
I stopped shaking his hand suspiciously. "Wait, what do I have to do?"  
  
"I have someone for you to guard," he says quickly. "Someone special in my life."  
  
"A daughter?" I ask hopefully.  
  
"You wish," he snorted. A smile almost played on his lips before he pulled away. "You'll see."  
  
Oh-oh. Somehow or other this seemed to spell trouble. "All right, Mr. Vash," Milly exclaims encouragingly. "Your second job! See? It was fine. Sempai will be so pleased. I am too and to think I thought you were done for!"  
  
"You don't get off so easy, young lady," the mayor says suddenly rounding on her.  
  
Milly's smile slips. "Huh? But I didn't do anything. I was just - "  
  
"An innocent bystander?" the mayor says sarcastically. "There is no eating inside the bank. If you hadn't come in to ask Vash the Stampede whatever it was you were going to ask him, there would have been no pudding on the floor. The robber wouldn't have slipped. The explosives wouldn't have gone off prematurely." He shook his head in disbelief. "I still don't know how you two managed to destroy half the bank and all the vault."  
  
I smile at him again. "Really. We are sorry," I apologize once more.  
  
He only threw up his hands in defeat. "Doesn't matter. You two report tomorrow to my office." Then he turned around, remembered that his office - which had been attached to an alcove of the bank - had been destroyed, groaned again and grumbled, "Just report here. And try not to destroy anything on the way."  
  
"Milly?" I say quietly as the mayor walks away.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Vash?" she says almost as quietly.  
  
"Can we not tell Meryl about this?"  
  
Grimly she nods. This was one report that Meryl wasn't going to file.  
  
Unrelated humorous quote: "Procrastination and masturbation are kind of alike. It's only fun until you realize you're only screwing yourself." 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)  
  
Author's Notes: *rubbing hands evilly* Hello my pretties. My perverse mind. . .uh, I mean, Vash's perverse mind, was at work for the past couple of days, procrastinating for me. Here are the results of our combined labors. I thank you all. Brief acknowledgements will follow because I felt like it again, though my definition of brief sometimes gets "stretched".   
  
VASHIES-GIRL: I'm trying. Really! I'm trying!  
  
Lady Rebecca: Yes. Sadly, when I channel Vash, he is a pervert. *grin*  
  
krazyMaze: Hmm...you naughty reviewer you! What did you think Vash was going to take from her dresser? I was thinking a hairbrush or something. LOL  
  
Niji Kitsune: Why, thank you very much!   
  
S-chan The Great: *going to mailbox with extreme caution* Oh no! Another invisible death threat? Come on now S-chan, I've got another chapter up. See? See!?  
  
Roganu-chan: *singing an oooold song* Do you know that song "I'm your puppet"? For some weird reason, that's what came into my head when I saw your review.   
  
Arafel: Really, I think I love you as a reviewer! You defend me from random attacks too! *gazing with starry eyes at Arafel* Arafel to the rescue!  
  
LadySteph: Are you still waiting? Impatiently? I think I may love you too! I'm trying to be Vash, really! But it's really uncomfortable. The stilts to get me that tall keep getting tangled in the red coat. I might have to *Be* Vash some other way. LOL.   
  
AnonymousTrigunOtaku: *grin* See Arafel's review.   
  
Wow! Too much caffeine, tons of procrastination, and not enough sleep makes me love everybody! But anyway. . .On to the product of a perverse mind! Oops. I meant: On to the product of a procrastinating mind! Enjoy!   
  
  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"So what are you planning to do once he gets rehabilitated?" Meryl asks tersely in an almost growl that I know she doesn't mean. (Well maybe she meant it, she did just come from 'tucking' Knives into bed. Yup. He fell asleep midway through one of their glaring sessions which makes her technically the winner. But I think she wanted to gloat over him and she can't very well do that if he's asleep. But back to Meryl now in the kitchen with me. . .) "He's going to get well soon, Vash. You'll have to do something."   
  
"Truthfully, Meryl?" I say sheepishly. "I haven't really thought beyond that. The important thing was to get him safe and alive again."  
  
"Well he's alive. Safe? For now," she threatened. A hint of that look reserved for Knives surfaced for a moment. "But I don't think I can stand any more of that glare."  
  
I raise my eyebrows. "Why, I don't know what you mean, Ms. Stryfe. I thought he had a charming smile." I smile slyly at her. "In certain lights, you almost have the same charming expression on your face."  
  
Her hand raises halfway, slightly threatening. Okay. Meryl is not in a humorous mood today. My timing's off again. Was it *that* time? Did she hear about my little escapade at the bank a week ago? Milly wouldn't be that heartless.   
  
I smile wider in an effort to deflect the blow I know is coming and a strange expression comes into her face and she sighs, her hand dropping in resigned defeat.   
  
"Idiot," she murmurs sofly and my breath catches in my throat. Was that almost gentle?   
  
"Here," she says, shoving a box of donuts at me. Okay. Not gentle. Same Meryl as usual. "They said they couldn't get rid of them."   
  
"Thanks," I say happily. The donuts are still tantalizingly warm and the doughy smell fills my nostrils as I open the top almost reverently. Mmm. . .donuts. Was there ever anything else of human invention so perfect? Sprinkles. Yummm. . .   
  
She sighs and sits across from me, leaning back in her chair tiredly. "So where did Milly go?" she asks as I am about to take a bite of my first donut.   
  
"She said something about dinner shopping. I hope she hurries," I say carefully. Milly and I had rehearsed this beforehand. Truthfully, she was at the bank babysitting the workers' children. Perfect job for her it turns out. Me on the other hand. . . Anyway, back to the donut. "Mmm. . ."  
  
"Honestly," she says, "I don't know how you can do nothing and be always hungry."  
  
"That's not fair," I protest. "You know I do odd jobs here and there. I changed that lightbulb last week. And I've got that job in town as a bodyguard now."  
  
Meryl chuckled dryly. "Yeah, yeah. I remember. But you don't really *do* anything as a bodyguard. All you have to do is say 'I am the great Vash the Stampede' and they fall over their feet trying to avoid you. And as for that lightbulb, you were the one who broke it."  
  
"It's not my fault I'm famous. And I'll have you know that lightbulb deliberately swung at me when I reached for it."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," she grins mockingly. "So who are you guarding this time? The banker? The mayor's pet?"  
  
"A woman."   
  
Meryl immediately stiffens and I could see the wheels in her head turning like the wheel on a music box, probably cheerfully chiming *Vash is a pervert, Vash is a pervert, Vash is a pervert after all!*   
  
"Oh?" she asks nonchalantly. "Who?"  
  
"Someone of no consequence," I say, the donut again on the way to my mouth.  
  
"Who?" she asks more forcefully, a glint in her eye. Fearing a bonk to the head, I stop the donut's progress.   
  
"Do you really want to know?" I grin.   
  
"Well, yeah," she said.   
  
"Why?"  
  
"So I can warn her you're a pervert," she adds in a nasty snicker.  
  
"Meryl!" I gape in shock. "I would never hit on the mayor's grandmother unless she tried something with me first," I deadpan.  
  
"I wouldn't put it past you," she chuckles and I swear I can sense relief in her voice.   
  
The donut again tries to make the trip to my mouth and Meryl groans tiredly, "Argh! Long day today."   
  
Cue Vash to exit with donuts. "Really?" my mouth automatically says. Damn sensitive heart. "You want to talk about it?" Huh? Stop it! Cue Vash to exit with donuts! Donuts!  
  
"Nah. Just complaining," she sighs and just then she leans further back in her chair, arching her back and stretching her arms over her head tiredly. And my jaw drops. I mean it *drops*. I thought I felt the table against my chin. That's how low it dropped. For you see – remember my dream about the kitchen? – my dreaming mind had triggered my waking mind into remembering a memory that was never real; a memory of her so close that her warmth stayed on my hands and her scent lingered in my head. It wasn't anything she'd said or done to trigger this pseudo-memory, it was my perverse mind just reminding me that I was in love (and maybe a little in lust) with this woman. (Insults. Her. Me. Kitchen. Then in a voice of calm resignation and firm resolution, Vash I love you. Kitchen table. 'Nuff said.)   
  
My mouth is still open and I am desperately trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing, but I can't seem to tear my eyes away from her. The thing to do at this point would have been to look decently away and not stare. But dammit, I just can't seem to move my head. My neck has decided to bolt itself in place, my jaw is refusing to move, and my eyes are glued to her.   
  
As she arches her back, her white top presses against her, outlining the absolute perfect smallness of her breasts. Her head falls back exposing that delicate throat and the tiny throbbing pulse just beneath her smooth skin. Her eyes close and her mouth smiles in satisfaction at the stretch and she makes this noise of perfect abandon. And I – I am mentally finishing that dream. Imagining her in that same position beneath me. In complete abandon. Moaning my name as her orgasm hits her. Oh dear. Turn away, Vash. Turn away now before she catches you. Save yourself!   
  
Meryl opens her eyes and finds me staring and of course freaks out.   
  
"What?" she says, drawing back suspiciously, the legs of the chair thumping loudly against the kitchen floor.   
  
  
  
And I remember that I am supposed to be eating donuts.   
  
I turn away and quickly arrange my face into a controlled mask of cheerfulness. You are not blushing, Vash. You are not aroused as hell. You did not look as if you wanted to jump her. Donuts, Vash. Think donuts. Be the donut.   
  
"Vash?"  
  
"Huh?" I fake vapid cheerfulness and cram the donut into my mouth, avoiding her eyes and concentrating on the sweetness of the sprinkles. Somehow it feels really dry against my tongue and the sugar doesn't even register in my brain.   
  
"What the hell is wrong with you today?" she mumbles after a minute.   
  
I mumble something that sounds like a protest about her interrupting my eating.   
  
"How do you get air between the donuts?"   
  
I smile at her and mumble, "Mmphbsdts."  
  
How could I be so stupid to let her see my need for her? I know she and I will never happen. She's human, I'm a Plant. She's perfect, and I'm scarred beyond repair. And she, well, she doesn't exactly hate me, but I don't think she likes me either. Tolerant is what I'd call her. Why am I even daring to hope?  
  
"Mphnut?" I offer.  
  
"You're hopeless," she grumbles. "I'm going to go find Milly and make sure she doesn't buy only pudding."  
  
Shaking her head, she leaves the kitchen and I smile absently after her, her name on the point of leaving my tongue and the confession with it. *Meryl I love you!* But of course I don't say it. She'd hit me on the head. And besides, the damn donuts are in the way.   
  
Argh! Donuts. I need another box of donuts. And a cold shower. 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)  
  
Author's Notes: *aiming gun* Die homework! Die! Damn it! Why won't you die? *checking bullets* Rubber bullets? Vash switched them again!? Bastard. *mumbles ominously* I might seriously have to hurt him this time.   
  
Ahem, dear reviewers, don't be scared. I'm just stressed and angsty. Brief acknowledgements follow just because now it's a habit and I can't seem to get myself to post without saying a word to you guys out there.   
  
Roganu-chan: You want to be a Cuban dictator? Like the one in Bedazzled? Hehehe. I am so sorry for you. But if you can't be a Cuban dictator, why don't you be a donut maker? So much safer to be a donut maker. Then you can actually say "Be the donut" and mean it.   
  
S-chan The Great: Really? There's a "shrine of best quotes from fanfiction"? *whining like Vash* How come no one told me? Ahem. . .yes, "Be the donut."   
  
VASHIES-GIRL: *wagging finger in admonition* I hate to tell you, but S-chan's the only one allowed to threaten me? *grin*  
  
Mari Silverfire: Awww! Thanks!  
  
krazyMaze: "Are his dreams gonna come true?" *smirking evilly* Wait and see. Wait and see.  
  
Loneliestnumber: I hope you didn't fall out of your chair like one of the other reviewers! Although I must say, having someone fall out of their chair laughing is...a really nice compliment.   
  
ceciliaa_e: You mean a taste of the donut, right? Right?   
  
Faery Goddyss: Umm...thanks? I don't know how you could have read it before since I just first started posting. BUt I guess...I really don't know what to say!   
  
Pori-Pori: Where's my cookie?   
  
Quenya: Thanks! Oh and I will email you back. Promise. When I get the chance to and I'm less angsty and stuff.   
  
Angel-Tinuviel: Well I'm so proud to be your "first." *grin*   
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Damn it! My shoulder stings like hell. There had been a bank robbery today, guns blazing, ketchup everywhere. The mayor is once more pissed off at Milly ("I said no food in the bank!") and me ("Again? The bank vault, again?") and the newly repaired vault is shattered again. No one had been killed but quite a few had some minor scratches. Mostly from crawling on the floor trying to get away from the mayor's grandmother. Who knew a ninety year old woman in a wheelchair could move so fast?   
  
That stinging in my shoulder, by the way, is because of her. And that bank vault? It wasn't my fault this time.   
  
I'd gone to buy her some aspirin while she waited in line at the bank. She was complaining about a headache. Headache my ass! It was a hangover from last night! That woman drinks like she has a hole in her shoe! Hell, she drinks more than Wolfwood did. I don't know where she puts it all, but I was the one leaning on the wheelchair for support at the end of the night and she was the one dragging me out of the bar. Heh. No wonder she's so well preserved. That body's probably ninety nine percent proof alcohol.   
  
So anyway, I go to the pharmacy for aspirin for her – though I knew she was being kind and was really only asking me to buy it so I can take it. We have another planned drinking match tonight. The mayor doesn't seem to mind. He mumbled something about "killing two outlaws with one stone." Didn't know what he meant until the bank incident.   
  
I get myself to the pharmacy and purchase two bottles of aspirin with no problem (I can take care of myself you know, no matter what Meryl thinks.) and was on my way back to the bank when I noticed that a car armored and bristling like a porcupine was parked in front of the bank with its engines still chugging heavily. My senses go on alert right away. Okay, maybe not right away 'cause of the slight hangover from last night. But still pretty damn fast. I crouched behind a lightly dozing thomas and watched.   
  
A red haired woman in an uncomfortably tight skirt and white top ensemble was looking impatiently into the bank. She had dark sunglasses on and seemed really tense. But it wasn't the woman who I noticed – although she was cute, no one can compare to Meryl and I don't really know if the skirt was tight, I'm only assuming because she was sitting on the edge of her seat like there was a pincushion behind her. It was the way the light glinted from her lap and onto her sunglasses, the unmistakable glint off the barrel of a gun. That, and she had a kerchief tied around her nose and mouth to hide her face.   
  
So, suave outlaw that I am, I jump her. (Not that way! I'm perverse but I'm not a molester!) Then in two quick moves she's trussed up and out of trouble, all without losing her sunglasses.   
  
"So sorry!" I apologize happily. "Thought you were someone else. I'll just borrow your bullets, okay?"  
  
"Mmmppph!" she protests and I take that as a 'yes' since she seems unable to talk past the gag that used to be her kerchief. I take the bullets and lose them and peer into the bank.   
  
It was like a scene from the most horrible of nightmares. Heh. Just kidding. It was pretty calm really except for the madman waving a gun around. It was the same robber from the first time the bank got robbed. I guess he decided that this time he needed a partner. And two packs of explosives. Damned man didn't seem to have learned the first time that explosives explode. He seemed really uncomfortable as well. What with his waving the gun around and trying to keep two packs from falling at the same time. Everyone was flat on the floor including Milly who had a bottle of ketchup for some strange reason or other and was busily finishing chewing whatever it was she had been eating. She was going to be okay, I knew that. What troubled me was the bane of my existence, my drinking partner, the mayor's grandmother and my responsibility: Grandma Mary Sue.   
  
She sat there next to a teller very calmly, her hands resting on her lap, with a glint in her eye, a glint that I had come to recognize as danger. The last time the glint had been there was when she said, "Do you want to bet?" and I had ended up being dragged out of the bar, having lost money from a drinking match.   
  
Then this is what happens:  
  
I launch myself through the door to try that element of surprise thing and Grandma Mary Sue suddenly reaches beneath her wheelchair and reveals this very large gun (How the hell did I miss that?) and wields it with dangerous imprecision (Yes, I said *im*precision, damn it!) and starts shooting at everything that moves with this crazy grin on her face like she had missed this and was enjoying every moment with the way she was cackling "Mary Sue Slugger, sheriff outlaw is going to kick your filthy robber asses" and everyone is trying to crawl away from her with plaster and bits of rocks and cement flying around to bruise exposed skin and I have to get on my stomach and try to crawl to her so I can wrench away the gun but the mayor gets there before me and tries to wrestle it away and then Milly stands up and shouts gladly "Mr. Vash!" and the robber (Who was at this moment just gaping in complete shock at his foiled plans.) remembers who I am and turns around saying "Vash the Stampede?" hits Milly with a carelessly outstretched arm making her drop her ketchup bottle spilling the red stuff everywhere and the robber slips and the vault explodes.   
  
Yep. The vault exploded. Again. How? It turns out Grandma Mary Sue had one shot left. The only shot that was *not* imprecise. The one shot that glanced off my shoulder and hit the robber's two packs of explosives as they flew towards the vault.   
  
So here I am back at square one. Stuck with the well preserved Grandma Mary Sue Slugger, famous sheriff outlaw. The devious woman who blamed the vault explosion one me! On me! Poor innocent Vash the Stampede! ("It's not my fault the bullet didn't stay in you!" she'd whined!) So now I'm stuck with her for at least a couple more weeks.   
  
And do you remember the aspirin I bought? Well, I'm on my way to the pharmacy again. It got shattered when I was shimmying my way to her. I may have to buy two more. The mayor looks like he has a killer headache hanging on his forehead. What with that vein throbbing on his temple like that. I can feel one starting myself, not to mention my stinging shoulder.   
  
I think this probably makes two reports Meryl wasn't going to file. I'll just have to try very hard to hide the bullet hole in my shoulder.   
  
*****  
  
"You're pathetic," Knives says distastefully when I come in with his tray.   
  
"Yeah and you're psychotic," I respond with a grin. "What's new?"  
  
He snorts out something rude and turns away. "Well? What the hell do you want?"  
  
"I'm your nurse today," I say with a hint of irony. "I just forgot the uniform."  
  
"Where's your two tag-alongs?"  
  
"Oh, off and about," I say nonchalantly and shrug. I immediately regret the action for it causes something to shift in my shoulder. "They'll be back if you miss the glare."  
  
"That short human woman?" he growls. "Her? I hate her."  
  
"Hey! She's been patient enough with you."  
  
"She's human. She's not worthy."  
  
"Well, hell. You're a Plant, whoever said you were worthy? Everyone deserves to live."   
  
"The tall one's even worse," he continues, not paying attention to me. "She's so. . .so. . .happy all the time."  
  
"Milly's like that." She actually believes there's some good in you, I add mentally. As I do.   
  
"I hate it here," Knives says suddenly, bitterly. "I hate these humans."   
  
"They've kept you alive despite everything," I remind him gently. I put the tray I've carried with much difficulty by him and indicate for him to turn.   
  
Knives looks at me, eyes unblinking and yet unhostile.   
  
"Bandages," I remind him.   
  
"I wish sometimes that we were never born," he abruptly says.   
  
For a moment that stumps me. It was so uncharacteristic of him to say that. "But we were. We just have to make the most of what we have."   
  
Something flashes in his eyes and the Knives (the Plant that was born with a glare) that I know returns. "I suppose you want me to do good now," he sneers.   
  
"Yes," I reply without hesitation. "I'll help you. They'll help you." I realize that I sound almost excited, emphatic, and Knives turns away.   
  
"You're a fool, Vash."   
  
I feel the retort come to my lips. "And you're a psychotic son of a – a . . ." A Plant? Come to think of it we weren't exactly sons of anyone. "Whatever. Why do you have to be *evil* all the time? Can't you be all cheery instead of psychotic just once in your life? Isn't it tiring?"   
  
"Butterflies," he mumbles evilly.   
  
"What?" I ask sharply.   
  
"I – " he begins to say, but just then his head lolls over and he is asleep again.  
  
I sigh and bend to change his bandages and tuck the blanket beneath his chin afterwards, wincing the whole time at the pain that shoots up my shoulder at every movement.   
  
Okay. So he's not exactly friendly. But he's not talking as if he wants to blow up the world. Except for that last ominous comment about butterflies, I'd call that progress. Wouldn't you?   
  
*******  
  
A/N: Wow! That was almost angsty huh? Next chapter I'll be back to my original roots of fluff and cotton candy and tension. LOL. See you next chapter! 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)  
  
Author's Notes: *Singing off key to the tune of Pop goes the Weasel* "There....once was a girl who procrastinated, procrastinated, procrastinated. There once was a girl who procrastinated, and now her life is so screwed." So for your enjoyment, the results of my procrastination, and the cause of my life being so screwed. *scurries off to watch anime, er, write paper. I meant write paper. Really! I did!* Brief notes follow.   
  
Roganu-chan: As promised, a bit of fluff; soft as down on a duck, cushiony as a blanket straight from the dryer, plump as a donut just baked. Enjoy! (Hahahaha! The author is soooooo unpoetic!)  
  
krazyMaze: Nope! No naughty dreams in this one. Just naughty thoughts. *Hey, I said I was demented not non-perverted!*  
  
FaeofLight: "Fanfic god" huh? *blushes* Oh, I really love you as a reviewer now! Hehehe! Enjoy!   
  
theoldfart: Interesting name! Uh...thanks for reading! And here's some more reading!  
  
S-chan The Great: *taking butterknife* I've been looking for that! I was trying to spread peanut butter but it doesn't work well with just your fingers. Er, yeah. And now, let me end the note in a traditional way. . .Noooooo! Not another threat! *gasp* I don't know how much more I can take!   
  
julianne athae: You too? Okay, guys. Really. Don't get god mad. I'm not him. For one thing, I don't glow in the dark.   
  
Abby-chantheblackcat: Ummm...I really don't know what to say. Thanks? I guess? Okay. Bye now.   
  
Arafel: *grin* You like Grandma, huh? Well, I like her too. As to Knives. . .well, you'll see.   
  
I hope I didn't miss anyone! And now. . . *pause for dramatic effect; drumroll offstage*. . . the fanfiction.   
  
Chapter 7  
  
Despite the knowledge that Knives will never be a danger to anyone ever again (Can you imagine that? Die worthless hu – . . .Zzzzzzzz. Doc says he'll be like that now from now on, falling asleep "at the drop of a hat") these light bantering moments (Insert dry ironic laughter) still tire me out. No wonder Meryl glares so much. It's probably the way she deals with it. Well, there won't be anybody to glare at when he wakes up and finds his food cold. Oh well.   
  
Damn. My shoulder still hurts. Today had been a tiring day. First the bank and the mayor and the extended assignment with Grandma Mary Sue and then Knives. Whew! It was enough to test anyone's strength. Hey, I may not be human but I can still get tired! And hungry. Too hungry, in fact to even think about anything else but donuts. I really should take care of this shoulder before the fabric gets stuck to me. But I'm so damn tired. And hungry. Wait. I said that already. Just sit down at the kitchen a moment to think.   
  
I put my head in my hands, lean against the table, and close my eyes. Just a second to rest. . . .   
  
"I'm home," Meryl calls loudly before her body comes into view. My head snaps up. Did I drop off to sleep? Hmph. I guess Knives is contagious. (Again, insert dry ironic laughter) She leans against the doorframe and frowns at me. "What's the matter with you? You look like that cat dragged you back and forth in the street before spitting up on you," she says cheerily while pointing at the windowsill. The black cat blinked sleepy green eyes at her.   
  
"That was mean!" I whine.   
  
"Sorry," she mumbles contritely. "Couldn't help it. Tradition. Here." The box of donuts lands with a thud in front of me. "They couldn't sell them. Like usual."   
  
I thought for a moment of leaving the kitchen and taking care of my shoulder. I couldn't let her see that I was hurt after all. Then my stomach chose that moment to growl.   
  
"Hungry, huh?" she smirks.   
  
"A little," I smile back. But my shoulder is beginning to throb with pain again. I start to rise from my seat.   
  
"Let me just get my coffee," she starts.   
  
And I begin at the same time, "I don't know Meryl. I really have to –. " The look on her face makes me falter. Questioning. Amazed. Hurt?   
  
I realize suddenly that this sitting in the kitchen sharing a moment over a box of donuts had become our own private ritual. She nursed a cup of coffee and I went through a box of donuts and we talked of things. Silly things, semi-serious things, random thoughts. It didn't matter what it was. The important thing was *the moment* that we shared. A small window of uninterrupted time (I suspect Milly was always absent on purpose) in both our days. A moment that was ours and ours alone.   
  
And here she was with a box of donuts in front of me, expecting the same as usual.   
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
Suck it up Vash. Pretend there's no pain. For Meryl. "Nothing," I say, shaking my head. "Nothing is wrong at all."   
  
I cannot deny her this. I cannot deny *me* this.   
  
So, smiling foolishly to mask the throbbing in my shoulder I settle myself back down, inhale the scent of eu de donut, and reach for the box.   
  
"Vash! You're bleeding!"  
  
"No I'm not," I say quickly. Damn! Damn, damn, damn! Damn Knives and his psychotic self! Damn those sharp gray eyes! Now Meryl's going to ask why I'm bleeding and she's going to file that report and then I'll have to find *her* some aspirin too (the mayor took the whole bottle home with him). She has beautiful eyes, but why the hell did they have to be so sharp? "I'm not bleeding, Meryl. That's ketchup. And how can you see red on red anyway?"   
  
"Let me see," Meryl says.   
  
"No. Really. It's nothing."  
  
Quicker than I thought was possible, she was at my side, her hand on my shoulder, pressing down hard.  
  
"Ow!" I bolt out of my seat and she jumps backwards quickly.   
  
"You _are_ bleeding! What happened?"  
  
"Really it's nothing. Slight accident."  
  
"Slight accident?" Her eyebrows rise dangerously. "Take off the coat, Vash. Let me see."  
  
"I said it's nothing."  
  
She raised a fist threateningly. "Want a headache to go with your shoulder?"  
  
"No," I grumble.   
  
"Then take off the coat." She turns to look through our supply drawer for Knives and comes up with bandages and gauze. "Take off the shirt too," she adds, almost in afterthought.   
  
"No."  
  
"Vash," she warns.   
  
"You'd just freak out."  
  
"I've seen you half naked before broom-head."  
  
I can't help myself. I raise my eyebrows at her lasciviously. "Why Derringer Meryl, have you been peeping on me when I shower?" Bonk. Ow. "Hey! I'm an injured man!"   
  
"Idiot, you know I've seen all the scars before. Come on, off with the coat and shirt."   
  
If my shoulder wasn't stinging so badly – now aggravated even more by the pain beginning in my head – I might have been enjoying this moment for its rather delicious implications. But as it was, Meryl was starting with the glare and wasn't about to be put off. She held her hand out, fully expecting me to cooperate.   
  
I sighed. "All right, Meryl. But don't say I didn't warn you."  
  
I turn my back on her and take the coat off gingerly. Then still not facing her, I peel my shirt off and she breathes out really, really slowly. I knew it. She was probably trying not to gag. She once said she wouldn't run away from me if she saw me and all the scars, but that didn't mean she had to like it. I start to put the shirt back on.   
  
"No," she says in a strained voice. I wince. I guess I am that bad. Who was I kidding to hope she wouldn't be disgusted at me? "It's – it's okay. You can turn around."  
  
I do as she says and turn to her. "Are you sure?"  
  
She blushes very slightly and nods her head, her eyes focused on the ground instead of my chest. Her voice is so soft, so low. "Yeah. I can't get to your shoulder if you've got the shirt on."  
  
There is uncomfortable silence while I stand there. Thoughts are running through my head. Thoughts too close to my dreams to say out loud. "Now what?" I ask, my voice slightly husky.   
  
Her eyes snap back up at my face and I clear my throat and try again, imagining her angry at me. It works like a charm and my voice returns to normal. "What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Sit down again, of course. You're too tall to reach," she snaps. "Idiot."  
  
I smile, relieved to know she hadn't noticed how my breathing had changed just a little at her closeness.   
  
Her hands are warm and small and gentle against my shoulder. I had expected the warmth and the smallness but not the gentleness. They wiped away the caked blood with care, sweeping over my skin in careful motions. They slid over my skin like fluttering moths as she tried to clean off the smeared blood and I couldn't help but shiver at the sensation.   
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. It's just that –" You're turning me on. "Nothing. Just fine."  
  
It's not a large wound. The bullet had merely grazed me and the worst of it was the blood and the bruise beginning to purple against my skin. But I heal pretty fast. It'll be gone in a few days.   
  
"Ow," I complain softly as she dabs alcohol liberally against the wound.   
  
"Don't be such a baby," she snorts, but immediately her hands are gentler on my shoulder. The smell of alcohol fills the air, drowning out the smell of donuts for a moment. Then quickly she dabs on something else, cool and soothing. "Local anesthetic. It'll dull the pain."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Then with practiced hands – Knives had been giving her all that practice after all – she wound the bandage around the cut, strapping it down on my shoulder and tying the ends into a quick little bow.   
  
"All done," she says.   
  
I rotate my shoulder experimentally and was rewarded with another bonk on the head.   
  
"Ow! Meryl! Can't you stop hitting me for just one moment?"  
  
"Don't keep moving it! You'll stop it from healing!"   
  
I was about to retort that I healed fast, that I wasn't human after all, etc. etc. etc. But she laid a hand on my shoulder, tracing out one my older scars and savagely says, "You don't want it to turn out like this, do you?"   
  
Inwardly I sigh. Perhaps she was disgusted after all. "I guess not," I reply.   
  
She murmured something then, just beneath her breath.   
  
I look up at her face questioningly but she isn't paying attention anymore. Unconsciously, she traces an idle pattern over and over on the scar, slow and gentle motions. Almost a caress. Part of me hopes she will stop soon so I can eat a donut. But another part of me is relieved at her touch, relieved that she isn't disgusted with my scars. I really should put a shirt on. But the one I discarded was bloody and I really didn't want to interrupt Meryl's thoughts.   
  
The only problem is that I'm still getting aroused by the touching. Her hand is so soft and she's so close and she smells so damn good. The alcohol smell has dissipated and I can smell her shampoo and the soap she used, like herbs and flowers combined and a hint of donut. I can feel the slight heat of her body so close to me and a responding tremor of heat moving in mine. I have to do something. Before I do something else that we both might regret. And before she notices that I'm not standing up for a _very_ good reason.   
  
"Meryl?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Can you stop what you're doing?"  
  
Her hands spring away from my shoulder followed by her whole body and suddenly I feel a deep ache of loss in my gut. My shoulder seems suddenly cold. "Sorry," she mumbles.  
  
"It's okay. It's just - "  
  
"What?" she breathes out and looks at me expectantly.   
  
"The donuts are getting cold."  
  
For a moment she stares at me and then she laughs and shakes her head. "You're okay, alright," she says and walks back to the other side of the table to get her coffee and sit. I laugh with her, enjoying her company, inwardly beating myself up for not being brave enough to just confess to her that I want her and need her.   
  
"So what did you do today?" I ask casually to start us off on our daily ritual.  
  
"Some fool robbed a bank."  
  
"Oh?" I say, trying to sound uninterested.  
  
"Yeah. Luckily it isn't my assignment," she continues.   
  
Oh good, I think. "So that was your excitement for the day?"  
  
"I wish," she says. "There was this thing with the insurance company. Someone sent a letter and it turns out that the boss. . ."  
  
I listen to her chattering, not really caring what Bernadelli was doing or what her boss was doing. The only thing that mattered was her. The lilt and cadence of her voice. The way she used her hands to emphasize a point, almost capsizing her coffee cup. The changing expressions on her face. Happily, I eat donuts and listen, nodding from time to time and making noises to show that I approved or disapproved or agreed or disagreed.   
  
I sit there devouring donuts until I realize that Meryl is no longer talking. I stop nodding my head and look up at her face and am shocked at what I see in her eyes: Hunger. Deep, intense hunger. Directed at me. What the – ? I feel sorry immediately. Here I was busy consuming donuts and I hadn't even offered her one. I mean, she was the one working full time – okay so I help by playing "bodyguard" to various self inflated people but it's not such a steady job – and she's just come home to an injured man and took care of that and she probably still had a million reports to file and here I was just nodding away and gorging. Damn it, Vash! Why are you so insensitive? No wonder she hates you! I stop eating and tentatively ask, "Meryl?"   
  
She jumps as if I've just pulled a gun on her. "What?" she says sharply.   
  
"Do you want a donut?"   
  
She frowns. "Why the hell do you say that?"  
  
"It's just that you look hungry for a second there. As if you were staring at a big donut," I tease.   
  
She chokes on the coffee she is about to sip, almost spraying it across the table. I cover the donuts protectively.   
  
"I – uh – I – " she stammers and her face suffuses with blood. Uh-oh.   
  
"Yes?" I ask, my hand on the way to reaching for a donut. Sugared. Maybe she would like sugared. She's always refused before but maybe she'll take one this time. "Want a sugared donut?" I wave the sugared donut in front of her and smile my most charming (I think it's charming!) smile.   
  
But the smile doesn't seem to work. Her eyes only start to look panicked. Okay, not sugared. "Sprinkles? The bear claw? Apple cinnamon? Glazed?" I'm starting to worry. "Meryl? Is something –"   
  
"I'm late for work," she shrieks and in a whirl of white she is running out the door.   
  
I stare after her in dumbfounded amazement. Late for work? She just got home! And panicked? What the hell?  
  
I stare after her for a moment before I pop another donut into my mouth.   
  
Women.   
  
I, Vash the Stampede, magnificent outlaw, great lover (*cough, cough*), searcher for the elusive mayfly known as love and peace, will never, ever, ever, ever. . .understand women.   
  
A/N: *grin* 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)  
  
Author's Notes: *looking furtively around* Uh. . .hi readers and reviewers alike. Shhh! I'm hiding from all the reviewers threatening me with everything from rusty spoons to flame throwers. I tried hiding in another fic but the same threats exist there too. *whining like Vash* I'm trying! Really I'm trying! But the threats from my professors have also become scary too. So the procrastination/writing had to be put on hold a bit. Plus I'm a little stressed out with school. But here's a little something to keep the threats on the "down low". Yo! *giggle* Why can't you threaten me with chocolate chip cookies or cute bishounen serving my every need? Like doing my essays for example? I personally think that may be more effective. *grin*   
  
Abby-chantheblackcat: Narcoleptic! Yup! That's the word of the day.   
  
Faery Goddyss: Tada! An update!  
  
AnonymousTrigunOtaku: Thanks! It's all good then!   
  
NeptuneHelena: "Intelligent kind of funny"? *curtsy* Why thank you! *screaming at professors* See? See? I AM intelligent!   
  
Samara Aurora Randolph: I've seen Zoolander but I don't remember that line. I just remember the little, itty bitty, teeny weeny cell phone he used. And playing at the gas station.   
  
Roganu-chan: I hope you feel better Roganu-chan! I coughed in sympathy for you when I read your review. As to the idea. . .well, thanks. But I'm sticking to channeling Vash. It was his POV that I began with and it will be his that I will end with.   
  
harakiri: Merci! "Thanks" in Russian (---Google gave me weird characters which Fanfic.net does not support so I translated if for you.). Gracias! And Arigato gozaimasu!   
  
Just A Weirdo: Can't help you with the waiting bit! *grin* I do have a couple of suggestions while you wait: 1) eat ice cream, 2) watch Fushigi Yuugi, 3) go read my other fic, 4) do all at once while rubbing your tummy and patting your head and saying "Vash loves Meryl" as fast as you can. Bwahahahahaha!  
  
Tough Cookie: Oh yes she does! Meryl certainly does!  
  
Jaded Ayumi: I'M TRYING!  
  
Kikanemi: *another curtsy* Huh? Curtsys? Why am I curtsying? But thanks.   
  
Foxy_Kikyou's_Destroyer: *grin* Rocks, huh? *dum chicka dum dum* Oops. . .wrong theme music. Uh, thanks.   
  
ThistleDemon: Down, demon, down! *noticing whining from hamper* And maybe you shouldn't stuff Vash in the hamper like that. He is kind of tall and all. You could always try tying him to a bed. *grin* Yup. That's what I would do.   
  
the old fart: Age? What does age have to do with fun? Or being a child at heart? Heh, I should be working too and paying bills and doing homework. But do I? Do I? I think not. *Woman with blonde hair and slightly MarilyMonroe-esque pushes author aside* "Hello. I'm Rain's fourth grade teacher. As to her spelling and grammar, you're welcome. I taught her that. I will now sweep out of this fic like Gloria Swanson." *looking after fourth grade teacher* I. . .well, okay.   
  
wheelers_hanyou: Welcome back to the story!   
  
And now. . .I'm tired. So no fanfiction. Just kidding! Here you are! It's more brain vomit. Enjoy!   
  
************  
  
Chapter 8  
  
"Mr. Stampede?"  
  
I hide the package I had been carrying behind my back and call "Yo!" to the mayor as he walks into his office.   
  
He extends his hand to me solemnly and I have to wipe my hand hastily of powdered sugar. "I wanted to thank you for saving Grandma Mary Sue" – he frowned for a moment, unsure of whether or not this was a good thing – "and to send you home early."  
  
"Huh?"   
  
"The board of directors is having a meeting."  
  
I nod. So much the better! I'm feeling hungry anyway and Meryl would be home soon. I can wait for her in the kitchen and surprise her. Maybe even jump behind her, grab the donuts she's bound to be bringing, tickle her and run away as fast as I can before she can catch me. Maybe I can even squeeze a hug in before she realizes what I'm doing. Ahhh yes. A hug from Meryl. (Hehehehe.) I grin momentarily at the amusing possibility and catch the eye of Grandma Mary Sue watching me with laughter dancing around the corners of her eyes. Damn. Forgot about her. Even knowing I was going to regret it, I ask anyway. "What about Grandma?"  
  
The mayor looked at the harmless looking woman sitting calmly in her wheelchair beside me. She looked a little flushed and her cheeks were suspiciously powdery. (She and I had just arm-wrestled for a box of powdered donuts. Guess who won? I made her share though.) "She's knitting today," he said stiffly. "And _supposed_ to be remembering that there is no food allowed in the bank because she is also part of the board of directors that instituted that rule." From the corner of my eye I could see Grandma as she stuck out her tongue at the mayor.   
  
I conceal the grin on my face behind a cough.  
  
"Well, Vash. Thanks for the lunch and dropping me off," she says seriously. "But I have to do business now." She made a face in disgust and then looked at me dead on and winked. "Don't forget the bet tonight."  
  
"Bet? What bet?" The mayor's voice rose in suspicion.  
  
"The drinking bet, of course," Grandma says calmly. "If he wins, I keep my mouth shut. If I win," she paused and laughed evilly, "He has to tell _the girl_."   
  
"What? The girl? Bet?" At the first sign of purple on the mayor's face, I slide past him and run out the door, hoping that maybe *she* would forget the bet. I don't really mind losing money to her. She never collects. It was the damned hangover the day after that always got me. That, plus I don't know how I was going to explain to Meryl that she was part of a drinking bet. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut the second time she said, Want to bet? Damn it Vash! Why can't you learn?   
  
*******  
  
"Milly? What are you doing here?"  
  
"The bank sent me home early too," she said, not in the least bit puzzled why.   
  
I sniff the air. "Smells good. What are you cooking?"  
  
"Dinner. Sempai and I had to play jankenpon for it. She insisted."  
  
"Meryl's here?" Damn. There goes all my evil plotting for a hug.   
  
Milly grinned. "Were you going to wait for her, too?"  
  
I chose to ignore that comment and said instead, "You lost, huh?"  
  
Her grin widened even more (if that was possible with Milly). "No, I won."  
  
"What does the loser have to do?"  
  
"Change Mr. Knives' bandages."  
  
"Ah."   
  
"I'm almost done. Want to take a plate up to Mr. Knives?"   
  
"Sure!" I smile, hoping she hurries before those two glare each other to death.   
  
"Okay! Let me just get a tray together. Hmm. You think Mr. Knives would like a flower?"  
  
Sure. If it had thorns he could use to cut someone's throat with. "Sure, Milly." I look around the kitchen for the other unmistakable smell that wafts just beneath the aroma of Milly's cooking.   
  
"You must be looking for donuts," she says without turning, digging through grocery bags on the countertop. "Oh here it is!"  
  
"The donuts?"  
  
"A daisy," she giggles, holding up a half wilted specimen. "It might cheer him up!"  
  
Yeah. That and not to fall asleep in the middle of glaring contests with Meryl. "Yeah, I'm sure it will," I say dryly. But the irony is lost on Milly. "Did you happen to see a box of donuts in there Milly?"  
  
"Oh those? They're in the bottom of the bag."  
  
I reach for a grocery bag eagerly but Milly whacks my hand lightly. I look at her, surprised and give her a mock hurt look. "Awww, Milly! I'm hungry!"  
  
"I'm sure Mr. Knives is too," she said.   
  
With hands more careful than what one would expect from such a woman, Milly ladled a rich stew into the plates she had prepared. Then off to the side, in a jaunty little vase that did not fit its intended receiver, went the unwilling daisy.  
  
I made my way up the stairs quickly, thinking of donuts and pause for a moment in the upper hallway. There is absolute silence. Then. . .a growl of menace.   
  
I run quickly to Knives's room expecting horror, carnage, Knives with multiple bumps on his head. . .and come upon the scene with relief.   
  
They were glaring. That's all they were doing. Knives was glaring at Meryl; Meryl was glaring at Knives. She was silently changing his bandages (though I don't know how she could do that with her eyes boring into his skull) and he was glaring at her while holding still. From what I could see of it, neither was winning.   
  
"Hi guys!" I say loudly to break the tension.   
  
Two sets of glares suddenly transfer to me and I stagger backwards. Whew! Those two were a double menace to society.   
  
"What?" Knives snapped.   
  
"Dinner," I grin. "Food. Hungry?" Because I am.   
  
"Hmph," Meryl says and then their eyes whipped back to each other and the glaring continued.   
  
*Sigh.* Oh well.   
  
I move forward to stand next to Meryl, holding the tray. Knives momentarily transfers the glare (the one that says 'oh I am going to hurt you so much you bastard not worthy to be called a Plant') that he had been directing at Meryl to me. Meryl shifts a little in front of me to give him a full on glare back and I automatically move the weight of the tray to one hand to avoid spilling it. (Wow! It was almost like she was protecting me. Awww! I think Meryl might like me! *cough, cough* Damn it Vash, concentrate! You know she can't ever love you. Plant? Human? Remember? Perfect? Okay, stop being angsty! Just enjoy the friendship you have with her! Concentrate! And stop screaming inside your own head!) My arm brushes against her as she moves and sends delightful little shivers down my spine and I cannot help but smile. It is strangely surreal. Here I was thinking thoughts about Meryl and the way she made my life so much better, and all the while we were in the presence of my abnormally psychotic brother. Unreal _and_ surreal.   
  
"What are you grinning at?" Knives snaps at me when he notices that I am smiling.   
  
"Nothing. You're adorable when you're angry."  
  
"Shut up, Vash. I swear if I had my gun," he begins and then yelps out in pain. "Damn it, woman! Can't you even tie a bandage right?"  
  
"Ooops," Meryl says sweetly. "Did I pull a little too hard?"  
  
Knives blinked at her before resuming the glare. Too late. She saw. Meryl smiled smugly. Game over. Meryl one, Knives zero. Ding, ding! Round two shortly to follow.   
  
Meryl finishes with the bandages and ties the knots at the end, as carefully as she had tied mine. Her hands move deftly and gently over his shoulder to check the bandage for tightness and suddenly something instinctual and possessive stirs inside me and I curve forward into Meryl, looking down at Knives. _Mine_, the word echoes inside my own brain. Huh? Jealousy? Whoa! Down, boy. Knives is not interested in Meryl in that way. And she . . . she's not yours. No matter how much you want her to be.   
  
Knives's face looks into mine with hard scrutiny. Then he makes a sound of disgust. "Why the hell don't you just take her already and be done with it?" he snaps without preamble.   
  
What? Did he just say what I thought he said? "Wha – What?" I splutter.   
  
"You heard me," he spits out maliciously. "Take her. So she can shut up and then I can kill her. I know you want to. I can see it in you."  
  
Yup. He said what I thought he said. I soooo want to melt into the floor at this point. But then that leaves Meryl all alone with the psycho. Oh no. Meryl!   
  
She has turned apoplectic beside me. I am dangerously aware that her hands are clenching and unclenching. Damn it, Knives! She's going to go for one of our throats first. I know she is. I'd prefer she go for yours but I know she'll go for mine by default.   
  
"Just do it and be done with her," Knives continues relentlessly. "I'm sure she won't complain. In fact she might even like it. If it weren't so disgusting, I for one, would – "   
  
"Why you bastard, I'll – " Meryl begins, lunging towards Knives.   
  
I dump the tray hurriedly by his bedside table, sloshing stew, and I literally drag her backwards towards the door, laughing idiotically and desperately babbling. "Hahahahaha! Ignore him, Meryl. He's an injured man. He's sick remember? Remember? Doesn't know what he's saying!"  
  
"I'm an injured man," Knives mocks. "Yeah, Meryl, watch it. You don't want my brother punishing you, do you?" Then his lips tilted upward in malicious glee. "Or do you?"  
  
"Hahahaha!" I laugh loudly to try and drown out his voice. "He's kidding! Just kidding!"  
  
I slam the door on Knives' oddly triumphant laughter before it gets cut off with a snore. Whew! Or maybe not.   
  
Meryl's presence beside me is enormously palpable.   
  
I force myself to turn to her. Force myself to meet her eyes. "Meryl, I'm sorry about – "  
  
"Shut up," she says quietly. Her face is flushed and she doesn't even look at me. "I am not, ever, ever, ever going to go in there again. Understand?"   
  
"Uh, yes. Okay."  
  
"Good," she says and she turns with a curse and stalks away.   
  
Well that went well. I turn to the closed door and whisper savagely. "Thanks, Knives. Thanks a lot."   
  
Great. Those dreams had now less than a pudding cup's chance in Milly's hands of *ever* coming true. Ever.   
  
  
  
  
  
********************  
  
A/N: Sorry if that was short and stupid. I told you I was stressed! 


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)  
  
Author's Notes: Hello my faithful and patient readers! I'm sorry it took so long this time. I've been stressed. Really. Too much school, too many midterms, not enough sleep, overdosing on caffeine, damn professors insisting that I don't really need sleep and are now assigning even more stuff for me to read. . .*sigh*. . .but you don't need my griping. So brief notes follow and then relentlessy forward we go.   
  
NeptuneHelena: Thank you for your support! Sadly, I don't think I can scream at my professors anymore. They just come up with newer forms of torture. Like "fun surprise" exams and "cool reading assignments." Grrr...   
  
Alpha Draconis1: I don't think Vash lending his gun to Meryl would be a good idea. Meryl might actually use it. *grin*  
  
S-chan The Great: *looking curiously at pretty Ritalin pills* Hey, S-chan, that looks good. Would you mind sharing? I'll give you my sandwich!  
  
Faery Goddyss: *sound of door opening at 7-11* Uh, I don't know why I heard that in my head when I read your review. But. . .here's the next chapter!  
  
Roganu-chan: *bonking own head* Oh! I'm sorry Roganu-chan. That's what you meant when you left that last review huh? I'll think about it. *mumbling* Stupid Rain. . .you've hurt a reviewer's feelings and now someone else might be leaving you death threats. Greeeaaaat.   
  
Mooshie: Thank you! And now, as a reward, a cookie, er chapter. Yeah!  
  
wheelers_hanyou: Oh yes, Vash is adorable isn't he? And a jealous Vash. . .*swoons in fangirl ecstasy* Er. . .yeah. He is adorable.   
  
Arafel: You too? You want Meryl to beat the snot out of Knives? Does Knives even have snot as we know it?   
  
Tough Cookie: *grin* I guess I should put another disclaimer in that chapter, huh? "Warning! Drink liquids at your own peril while reading this chapter." *laughs maniacally*  
  
Scarlet Rurouni: Bet? What bet? *sly grin* Want to make a bet?. . .With Grandma?  
  
the old fart: Well thanks! *sweetly* Would you tell my professors that? Or write it on letterhead? *grin*  
  
Bowserbabe: You're welcome and okay!  
  
julianne athae: *handing Magic Marker (TM)* You said it was the "highlight" of your day. Get it? Get it? *grumble* Okay, so I'm not so funny in real life.   
  
Alrighty then. I hope I didn't miss anyone. Now on to the fiction brought on by a mind on the verge of a psychotic episode. Bwahahahahaha!   
  
***************  
  
  
  
Chapter 9  
  
I have some bad news. Yesterday, the bank had another accident. Not my fault this time! I swear! I was nowhere near the vault and Milly was out with the kids. It exploded on its own. Really! I personally think it was Grandma Mary Sue's fault (With her gun under that wheelchair and her and I thumb-wrestling, anything could have happened!). No one is pointing any fingers because they can't prove anything – though some of the bank's board members are twitching to just point fingers at me and if it weren't for Grandma's glare (and notorious aim), they would have done it already. Still, a decision has been made. The bank is closing. I guess the third time was the last straw. So let me relive it for you while I'm standing here waiting for Grandma and the mayor to leave (since after today I won't have a job and basically no life) how it all happened. . .  
  
***   
  
Like I said, Grandma and I had been thumb-wrestling. Not for donuts this time – although those were certainly in the room – but so I could get out of the bet we had made a week before. She was still insisting that I tell Meryl that I liked her and I was still insisting that eww, gross, girls are yucky. Of course Grandma didn't believe me and reminded me that the bet had been fair and square. I whined that the bet had been made in a moment of sheer and utter stupidity. Plus I was completely plastered out of my mind at the time and vulnerable. She had responded with a nasty snicker and said, Want to make another bet to cancel this one out? And I had said – what else? – Okay, Grandma.   
  
I know, I know. 'Typical', Meryl would say. Heck, I can almost hear her voice in my head. But I know damn well, I wasn't going to tell her. Can you imagine that?   
  
Me: Hey Meryl, I'm in love with you. Do you love me?   
  
Meryl: Love you? The infamous Vash the Stampede aka stupid donut-eating, broom-headed, perverted idiot, who makes my daily life a living hell? Yeah right!   
  
I admit that a response like that would hurt but what's worse could be incredulous laughter:   
  
Me: Meryl, I love you.   
  
Meryl: *choke* Hahahahahahahahahaha!   
  
Me: Meryl? I said I love you.   
  
Meryl: Hahahahahahaha!   
  
Or worse:   
  
Me: I love you.   
  
Meryl: Aww, that's nice. But I can't love you.   
  
Me: Why? What's wrong with me?   
  
Meryl: Well for starters. . .   
  
Or even worse yet:   
  
Me: I love you, insurance girl.   
  
Meryl: I love you too, Vash. But. . .only as a friend.   
  
Me: Gaaaaaaaaah!  
  
But I'm rambling. Back to the excitement of thumb-wrestling. . .   
  
Grandma was half winning. Not because I was being kind but because the woman has a grip like iron. I know I could very easily snap her in two like a stick. But I'm not mean and I'm not the psychotic brother. I am, however, Vash the Stampede. So I was going to let her lose in classic style. Gently. With love and peace.   
  
So I was trying to gain the upper hand, er, thumb, when she did this little twist thing and Bang!   
  
One moment there was the bank, the donuts, and the vault. Just fine and dandy. And the next moment, obliterated donuts, smoke in the bank, the vault exploded. For the third time.   
  
"Grandma Mary Sue!" the mayor's voice thundered loud and clear from his office across the building. "Emergency meeting! NOW!"   
  
And Grandma Mary Sue, looking very contrite and sheepish, slunk out of the room, following the sound of her grandson's irate voice.   
  
Two hours later they came out from the meeting room to a hushed and expectant audience. The mayor's face had acquired a tint of purple. The board of directors were hissing en masse, fingers twitching to point at me and not daring. And Grandma Mary Sue was wearing a look of such repentance that I knew something was up.   
  
"Bad news, Vash," Grandma said.   
  
Uh-oh. "I guess this means I'm out of a job, huh, Grandma?" I ask with a grin that I didn't really feel.   
  
"Yup. Sorry, Vash, but I guess this branch of the bank is closing. It's time to build a new one."  
  
"Well," I say.  
  
"Well," she says.   
  
Then I smile and hold my hand out to her.   
  
"I'm glad I got to know you, Mary Sue Slugger."  
  
"Same here, Vash the Stampede."  
  
***  
  
Sniff. Sniff.   
  
No. I'm not crying. It's the smoke from the still smoldering vault. Really. (You'd think after one night in the air, the vault would already be cool! But no, it's still smoking and hurting my eyes.)   
  
"So you came to say goodbye, after all," Grandma says as she wheels her way into the ready wagon. Their bags are packed already and the mayor has hired a team of thomases to take them to the town where the new branch is being built. It turns out that their employees stay with them. For life. A sort of family thing. Kind of nice in a way.   
  
Slowly, the bank was emptying. Two wagons had already left this morning with the still hissing board of directors. Poor Milly was at the moment saying goodbye to all the children she had taken care of and probably crying her eyes out. And here I was. Not crying. Really.   
  
"You came to make sure I really left, huh?" Grandma insists jokingly.   
  
"Yeah. I wanted to tell you that I'm glad you're finally out of my spiky hair," I say as my way of goodbye.   
  
Grandma Mary Sue chortled in a most unladylike way and fished two bottles of beer from a bag behind her. She tossed me one, and cheered mischievously, "Bottoms up!" So while the mayor looked on half disgusted and half amused, she and I shared one last beer together. "Face it, Vash," she cackled. "You're going to miss me!"  
  
"Grandma," the mayor whined. "You're making a scene!"  
  
"Who gives a sh – "  
  
"Grandma Slugger," I interrupted quickly, "It was fun having to guard you. Even if you always won the drinking matches."  
  
She grinned at me suddenly, "Want to make one last bet?"  
  
The mayor groaned then. "Please god, no. No more bets. No more hangovers. It's bad enough we've lost a bank. I don't want your cranky headache in the morning."  
  
Grandma Mary Sue looked over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at him. "You should try it sometime, you know. It might improve your management skills."  
  
I turn quickly away to conceal my smile before turning back to her with a serious look. "Well," I say, extending my hand to her solemnly. "It's been fun, Grandma."  
  
"Hell yeah!" she whoops. And taking my hand in hers, she winks, and says, "Except for the sex, you really were the best bodyguard ever."  
  
"Wha – what?" the mayor sputters.   
  
"Take a pill, Clarence," Grandma says sharply. "It was a joke. Better yet, take a drink. Take two. One for me and one for you. Heh. I rhyme today!"  
  
I wave to the two of them as they set out on their way, Grandma waving over her shoulder. This time I do not conceal the grin from my face, though my cheeks felt considerably pinker after that last comment. Leave it to Grandma Mary Sue to say something like that. But what she had said was true though. (Not the sex part, you pervert!) It was true that I was going to miss her.  
  
Just before the wagon disappears out of town forever, Grandma leans out of her wheelchair one last time, turns to me with a wink and shouts, "I bet that she loves you too, Vash the Stampede!"  
  
I only grin wider at her, hoping that people aren't staring at my face. Because the way it felt just now, I was probably red as my coat, burning with embarrassment.   
  
*****  
  
Author's Notes: On a lighter note. . .only a month and a half of school left. Yes! 


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)  
  
Author's Notes: Hello my dear faithful readers. It's been. . .how long now? A couple of months? Well, rather than get into long explanations on my unexplained absence, I thought I'd just give you a new chapter. Fair enough?   
  
And now, since it's been soooo long (eons by the way some of you dramatize it) I hope that I get everybody's name in my short (hehehe) list of thanks. Find yourself! If I missed you, I truly am sorry. No, not really, but I thought I'd just put that in there.   
  
the old fart: Yes, school is over. But since I needed a brain break, and the holidays were on, I couldn't get to all of you even with how much I love you all!  
  
krazyMaze: Do you have a whole house now? And here *hands over corks*. For your pitchfork.   
  
chaotic pink chocobo: Tada! A new chapter! Amazing, huh?   
  
Tough Cookie: *provides goose-down pillow* If you don't know why, read your last review. LOL.   
  
BJ4: Tempted as I am to make Vash take that advice, it's a very, very bad one to take.   
  
Scarlet Rurouni: You can stop clicking the "refresh" button now. That is, until after you read this new chapter. (And yes, sometimes, most of the time, I am cruel and evil.)  
  
S-chan The Great: Thanks for the Ritalin! It was useful during finals. For my professors.   
  
NeptuneHelena: Hello procrastination buddy! It's almost time for school again, isn't it? My, my, must we do more procrastination? Hmm...I guess someone did some counting!   
  
ShadaHack: *pats dog's head* Well, well, well! Someone who also likes Indiana Jones movies!   
  
Weiila: Well thank you. As to the swearing, well...let's just say, I tone down a bit when I write. LOL. But kiddies out there, speak in complete sentences okay? Rain bids you speak in complete sentences with minimal swearing.   
  
OverDose: How else would you enjoy this?   
  
Vashra BloodReeper: No need to be squeamish.   
  
Seabeast: You know, I just saw the animated version of Sinbad (the newest one) and when I saw your name, I totally thought of squid monsters. *ducks squid projectiles* No, no, no! Dude, that was meant to be a totally harmless comment!   
  
dreamfairy06: You think I have talent? LOL. I guess I got you fooled.   
  
lisachan: Grazie, Lisachan.   
  
kiara: Eh? What are you trying to say?   
  
wheelers_hanyou: Hmmm...to let Vash take Knives's advice or not? What a dilemma!   
  
Alpha Draconis1: Nag? Nooooooo. Whatever do you mean by that? But I am a lazy writer, that I am, so you just gotta wait patiently.   
  
Leina: It might have been the bear claw.   
  
a little weird one: Thanks!   
  
And now....dum dum dum....a new installment in the insanity. Enjoy!   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 10  
  
What to do, what to do, what to do? Being (temporarily) completely jobless, I have completely exhausted all other possibilities for entertainment. I had already played kickball with the town kids, tried to help out some people with their moving before being chased away, and aided in the rescue of a couple of old ladies overwhelmed by five boxes of donuts. And I have run out of things to do. Really. And no one will let me help. The smoldering remains of the bank vault seem to be acting as some sort of warning.   
  
I had thought of going to go visit Meryl, but as delightfully entertaining as that thought was, I knew that if I dared, she would give me more than a couple of bruises on my head for even showing up at her place of employment.   
  
I guess the only thing left now was to go home. Wait for Meryl and donuts. Not that I was going to be lonely. Milly (as jobless as I am) was probably there anyway.   
  
The house was full of warmth when I got there and there was the heavenly smell of cooking, something hearty and probably full of big chunks of meat and potatoes. The slight scent of baking bread filled the air as well. All in all, it really was quite a yummy smell, the kind of smell that comforts people and makes them feel like they're home. Poor Milly. I knew it was her who had been cooking. Who else cooks when they're depressed?   
  
I was right about the cooking. A big pot of meat and potatoes (and carrots) was simmering. By the looks of it, it was almost done, only just waiting for the final touches of spices. On the kitchen table, the medical kit was out, ready to be taken to its meeting with that ever-so-charming brother of mine. I sigh and pick it up. Milly had enough on her mind to deal with. I'll deal with Knives today. Yup. That's just what I need at the moment. Time alone with my brother. Excuse me if the sarcasm drips through. I'm not bad as a nurse but sometimes the guy just gets on my nerves. Hey, I love him but he's still annoying as hell.   
  
As I make my weary way up the stairs, I contemplate the day, my thoughts wandering. Meryl was going to find out sooner or later what had happened. She was going to find out about the bank and about the job and she was going to do what she always does. She was going to glare. I knew she was. There were some things about her that were so adorably predictable. I wonder if she's going to try hitting me on the head again? I could try hugging her again. That was amusing last time. The planning to sneak in a hug before she noticed part. Boy will she be angry if I did. I wonder if what some of the guys at the bar said was true? That angry women are usually feisty in bed? Grandma Mary Sue agreed with that wholeheartedly. Wasn't that one of our bets the night before she left? That most sexually frustrated women deal with the frustration by being angry? I wonder what Meryl would be like in bed? Hmmm…..Meryl angry. Make-up sex. Whoa! Down boy! This is not the time to think of Meryl in bed. But what had Grandma said? It was. . .*I bet she's like a whirlwind in bed, Vash. Now what's her name again?*  
  
I shake my head of the delighted cackling that I was imagining. That had been one of her attempts to wheedle out Meryl's name from me. It never worked of course. No matter how drunk I was, I was never going to give up that tidbit of information. But Grandma Mary Sue had said something after that. Something so serious that it had made me pay attention. I was so drunk it should have been fuzzy but it was the most crystal clear thing she'd said. *Tell her, Vash. Tell her you love her and get it over with. You'll never know she loves you back unless you tell her.*   
  
Yup. That's what she said. Right before she made a bet that she could drink five more beers than I can.   
  
"I'm back, sweetheart. Miss me?" I call out cheerily as I open the door to Knives's room.   
  
"Oh, shut up," he answers shortly.   
  
"What? You didn't miss me?"  
  
"Between you and that. . .that creature. . .I almost want to strangle myself."  
  
"Now there's a thought," I say and grin.   
  
"Don't hold your breath, brother."  
  
I shake my finger in admonishment. "Now, now, cute little brother of mine, that creature happens to be cooking your dinner."  
  
"Good, I hope she chokes on it."   
  
"I see you had a good day."  
  
"And I see that you got fired," he answers mockingly.   
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"I heard your little friend mouthing off downstairs."  
  
Poor Milly. "Yeah, well. . ." Hmm. I guess I really didn't know what to say to that. "Yeah. We lost our jobs. Oh well. More time for you, then." My grin only widens as I notice the wince that Knives tries to hide. "Yes, siree, brother. More time for me and you to bond over," I add gleefully, noticing the way he's started to squirm. Oh yes, make the psychotic Plant squirm in discomfort Vash, push all his little evil buttons. I widen my eyes and give him my most adorable look. "Oh yes, Knives. Come on and let's."  
  
"Let's what?" he asks suspiciously.  
  
"Let's share our feelings," I exclaim, giving him the starry-eyed-puppy-dog-eyes.   
  
"Oh shut up," he snarls grumpily, "Just shut up, Vash. And for the sake of all the males in the world, stop looking so goofy."  
  
"Oh but we should share our feelings, Knives," I goad on. I could feel myself feeling a sort of sadistic enjoyment that Knives was the one being uncomfortable. Who knew torturing your brother could be so much fun? Oh wait, I forgot this was Knives. Of course he knew how much fun torturing one's brother was. "Yes, Knivesy-pooh, we should share our feelings. You can tell me how much you looooove being here and how much you loooooove Milly's cooking and Meryl's little visits and– "  
  
"So is Meryl a screamer or a moaner?" Knives interrupts sadistically.   
  
Oh crap, why'd he have to bring her up?   
  
"She's a feisty woman, Vash. I bet she's a screamer," he continues relentlessly.   
  
Feisty? When did Knives start using the word 'feisty'? "Feelings," I say loudly. "Let's talk about _your_ feelings."  
  
"No. Let's talk about your, ahem, feelings, Vash."  
  
"I thought we were on your favorite subject: You."  
  
"What's wrong, Vash?" he says slyly. "Afraid to talk about _your_ feelings?"   
  
"No. And there's nothing to talk about. Meryl and I aren't like that," I mumble uncomfortably.   
  
"Yeah, 'cause you're a wimp," he adds.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"No, you shut up."  
  
"No you."  
  
"Whatever," I say and unroll the bandages from his shoulder. "I don't want to talk about this," I say glumly.   
  
"You should just take her and get it over with."  
  
"Yeah. I know all about your suggestion. And again, the answer is no." As the bandages come off I notice that he's almost completely healed, the bandages now only a precaution against the wounds reopening. My own shoulder wound is completely healed too, the skin a healthy shade of pink because of Meryl's gentle ministrations. And momentarily a memory surfaces in my brain: Meryl's scent, her closeness, her gentle touch on my shoulders and a sigh escapes me. I should have kissed her then. I should have kissed her and told her. I should have kissed her and told her that I love her, that I need her, that I want her, and damned be all the consequences.   
  
*Sigh*  
  
But no. Why do I keep forgetting? This is Meryl. This is me. Of all the great impossibilities of life, there being an "us" was one of them.   
  
I glance up suddenly to see Knives looking at me oddly.   
  
"What?"  
  
"You regret something," he accuses.   
  
"What? No! What should I regret?"  
  
"There's something you regret," he frowns in puzzlement. "I just can't figure out what – " he suddenly cuts off and slaps a hand to his forehead. "You are an idiot, Vash!"  
  
"No, Knives, tell me how you really feel," I respond sarcastically.   
  
"Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!" he exclaims, punctuating each word with a glare. "Why'd you do it?"  
  
"Hey," I admonish. "Only Meryl is allowed to call me that three times in a row. And what the hell are you talking about anyway?"  
  
"You like her," he sneers. "I can't believe you like her."  
  
"No, I don't," I protest quickly. Too quickly. And Knives knows it. He looks at me appalled and the sneer turns to a look of absolute horror.   
  
"Oh no!" he gasps.  
  
I stop winding the bandage immediately. "What? What? Did I hurt you?"  
  
"You – you – " he splutters, pointing at me with a disbelieving finger. A twitch seems to have developed over his eye and progressed down to his mouth, opening and closing like a gasping fish. "You – You - You're in love with her!" he shouts.   
  
"Keep it down," I say sharply before I can stop myself. Then I realize what he'd said. "No I don't! I don't!" Oh yeah Vash. What a perfectly adult thing to say. Whine *No I don't!* and he's sure to believe you then. *Vash and Meryl sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S . . . * Even as the childish verse ran through my head I smile to myself. "Well, maybe, I do. Just a little."   
  
Knives's face is grim. "What the hell have the humans been doing to you?"  
  
"Teaching me humanity," I say firmly. "And kindness." And love.   
  
Knives only moans in utter disgust and starts mumbling gibberish about spiders and butterflies. Yup. My brother. The nature-lover. Hah! (Maybe I should insert that dry ironic laughter here again? Hell, whatever. The maniacal brother of mine can do that on his own.)   
  
The discovery seems to have deflated him and I finish the bandages quickly, hearing the sound of voices drifting from downstairs. Meryl was home already. Any moment now the donut smell was going to wind its way up the staircase and call me with its siren song.   
  
When I open the door to go, there is a tray already there, steam gently rising from the corners of the covered containers. Good ol' Milly. Always so tactful. She probably heard me and Knives talking and didn't want to interrupt.   
  
I leave it by Knives' bedside. He's asleep again. I suppose it's probably because this latest news depresses him. 


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)  
  
Author's Notes: Oh lookie! How uncharacteristic of me! An update! And so soon! Could it be. . .*gasp* School is going to start soon and I am starting to feel the need to procrastinate? Yup. That must be it. So, I give you all a chapter. After the list of thanks.   
  
Filthy: Why thank you. Thank you very much.   
  
TRIGUN KITTY: Oh there's more. You just have to hope that I feel the need to procrastinate.   
  
Sweet Sere: Ah, so you've joined my little cult following have you? *rubs hands a la Mr. Burns* Excellent.   
  
Vampkestrel: And here it is.   
  
Weiila: Uh, hello import from the George Lucas Galaxy. Okay, I'll stop talking crazy now. But thanks for reviewing!   
  
evil squeede: LOL. I totally laughed while replying to your review because of your name. Because you see, I had calamari today. And yes, I love my narcoleptic knives too.   
  
Jaded Ayumi: OHOHOHOH! Yes indeed Knives found out! Wait soon for coming chapters to see who else finds out!   
  
Neptune Butterfly: Full grown college students can ask for stuffed toys too! And by the way, thank you for your review. The sheer length of it made my day. *grin*  
  
Alpha Draconis1: *innocent look* Why, whatever do you mean by "go at it"?   
  
The old fart: Ah, my very, very faithful reviewer. *bows* I thank you. *starry eyed* I love you! *guilty giggle* Ah, yes, about my other fic. . . *runs away*. Huh? Oh yeah. *runs back* Knives doesn't have the Playboy channel. He learned about it in an ancient earth book called The Kama Sutra which I'm told is illustrated. *runs away again, blushing horribly*.   
  
AnonymousTrigunOtaku: Thanks! And I don't think the reviewer was exactly "flaming" me. *checks body* Nope, no char marks. But thanks. And *grin, pointing to rating* sorry to disappoint you, but no sour fruit in this fic.   
  
ToughCookie: You're very welcome about the pillow. I would have provided that high tech foam stuff, but since I don't even know what's it's called, Google couldn't help me. And Grandma's advice? She is a sneaky one isn't she? *grin*  
  
Elemental Water Mistress: You have siblings you can smash too? Wow! Anyway, thank you. And now. . .to talk about myself. *evil laugh* Just kidding! "Does new chappie make you happie?"  
  
ShadaHack: Onward! And by the way, say hello to your teachers for me. When they look at you funny while you read this in class.   
  
Orion Kohaishu: *uncomfortable laugh* Ah, yes, the need. Of course. Ahem. . .ah, new chapter. Random response. How's that?   
  
Vashra BloodReeper: Glad I'm here to update!   
  
lynxotaku306: *sultry voice* You don't have to wait any longer. *giggle* Sorry, I just couldn't help but do an impression of this woman I saw in this movie a long time ago and can't even remember the name of.   
  
Rainy-days13: .~  
  
Chibi Atto-san: *looks at split personality reviewer* Uh, thanks to both of you. And if you are really two characters from some anime I haven't seen, I'm sorry for mistaking you for a mental hospital escapee.   
  
wheelers_hanyou: Yes, very apt description of Knives. As to Vash and Meryl moments. . .Bwahahahaha! *choke* Ahem, yes. Indy and dad. Hilarious. And one last thing, British, Australian, or New Zealander(is that right?)?   
  
kenjis-slayer: You think I write "beautifully"? Well you should see my cursive. It's sexy as donuts. *giggle* Uh, sorry. I really should respond to reviews when I'm more awake. Thanks for reviewing! Ya'll come back now!   
  
Okay, okay, folks. Nothing more to see here. Eh? What's this? Another chapter? Well I'll be tarred and feathered and dipped in chocolate cream and sprinkled with nuts and called a monkey's uncle. It is a new chapter! It is! It is! Read on, faithful readers of mine!   
  
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Chapter 11  
  
Milly has absolutely outdone herself this time. The stew is good, the meat is tender, the potatoes and carrots melt in your mouth. I had to admit that this time (For the first time ever!) I went for the stew first instead of the donuts. Even Knives – when I checked on him before dinner – had finished every last bit of his dinner and wiped up the dregs with bread. He didn't have to say anything because the empty bowl spoke for itself, but he still scowled menacingly when I made a comment about his healthy appetite. But even he has got to (grudgingly) admit that Milly is a surprisingly good cook. When she gets it right.   
  
  
  
Across from me, Milly is wolfing down her own food, enjoying every bite, the laughter and happiness already back in her eyes. I suppose its because she and the kids parted on good terms and good ol' Milly will never let anything make her sad for long. Upstairs, I had left my adorable brother snoring, his stomach as well rounded as the little black cat mewling in sleepy contentment by the kitchen door.   
  
Unfortunately though, not everyone was enjoying this dinner. Meryl, sitting next to me (She's so close that my skin tingles with quiet electricity. Wohoo!) is quiet, barely touching her food. From my count, she's only dipped that spoon in that stew seven times tonight and actually eaten from it only five. Now why did I notice this? Weeeellll…I have just a tiny bit of a fascination with Meryl's mouth at this point. After that little inner 'discussion' with myself about regretting kissing her and Knives's wonderfully observant comments, the first thing I did when I saw her sitting in the kitchen was stare at her. Stare at her mouth to be precise. I stared at her and wondered how her lips would taste, their texture, their touch. That is until she caught me staring and I had to look away, blushing horribly, hoping she didn't notice. When I looked back at her, she wasn't looking at me anymore but down at the table, deep in thought. Then Milly had distracted us both by rushing in with a stack of plates and soup bowls. Then she had further distracted us by starting dinner and almost spilling a whole scalding bowl on me. Then there had been dinner. And quiet.   
  
That's all that has happened. Other than the sounds of eating, we are all quiet. Well, except for Milly of course. Cheery as always. But Meryl is quiet. She has been quiet this whole time and a part of me is starting to worry.   
  
Meryl's only quiet when she's upset or thinking about something. Maybe she found out about the bank? It wasn't a big branch but people had to be talking about the mayor leaving. Of course, that kind of talk has to lead to _why_ he is leaving. And talk about why he is leaving will eventually lead to talk about the destruction of the bank. And the talk about the destruction will of course lead back to me. And maybe to Milly. Maybe she's upset about that. Isn't she always telling me that besides being an idiot I'm a walking disaster area? But still, she'd said nothing and I still hoped that I would be the one to break the news to her. Gently.   
  
I guess dinner and light conversation was the gentle way to do it. Something along the lines of _So, Meryl, how was your day. Uh-huh and Bernadelli is good? Oh, and by the way I destroyed a bank. And Milly, you had a good day too?_   
  
Yup. Perfect. That's the way to do it. Just sneak that in there.   
  
So now. . .starting off with light conversation. . .  
  
"So." Eat. "How." Chew. "Was your." Swallow. "Day?" Charming grin.   
  
Meryl looked up at me surprised. I smiled and repeated the question and she opened her mouth, about to speak. . .and Milly looked up and said, "It was great Mr. Vash! You wouldn't think it would be, with the weather being it is, but it was so much fun. I found some kids who wanted to play and . . ."  
  
Meryl's eyes once again dropped and she stirred her stew aimlessly. I sigh inwardly and let Milly talk. Well, light conversation with Milly wasn't what I intended but that was what I got. After all, I hadn't really directed the question at Meryl. I hadn't said her name (for fear that I might say it and choke) so it served me right that Milly had answered. She was part of this table after all. *sigh* Oh well, might as well make the most of it.   
  
As Milly talked I found myself once again becoming fascinated with Meryl's mouth. Her lips were slightly opened and from time to time she would bite her bottom lip and then moisten it absently, her pink tongue sweeping across the bottom lip then the top. They looked so inviting, so soft, so –   
  
"Mr. Vash?" Milly asked.   
  
"Huh? What?"  
  
"Did you hear what I just said?"  
  
"Yes, of course," I said quickly.   
  
"Oh good," Milly said happily. "As I was saying I tried to leave the kids playing because I really didn't want to be. . ."  
  
Again, I let Milly talk, nodding at her and frowning; trying to focus on what she was saying. But there were so many distractions! There was the cat mewling by the door, Meryl's skin so close to mine and my neck tingling in awareness. Someone was looking at me. It didn't feel like a hostile stare, but a questioning one. I tried to concentrate more on what Milly was saying, but you know that feeling when you know that someone is looking at you? That sort of tingle that turns gradually into an itch that you have to scratch or else turn because you can't stand it anymore? Well I tried to ignore it. Really I did. But that tingle at my neck soon enough became an itch. An itch that came from Meryl's direction.   
  
I turned to her to ask her what she wanted but her eyes were still focused on her uneaten stew, her hand very still on the spoon.   
  
For a moment, I doubted myself. Were my senses that off because of her closeness? (Damn it! I should have kissed her then!) I had been so sure that she had been staring. I shrug mentally. Oh well. Mistakes can happen. Even for the Humanoid Typhoon. I forced myself to pay attention to Milly again.   
  
"Anyway, the kids had eaten so much ice cream and cookies that they were all screaming at that point and –" Milly was saying when, "Excuse me," Meryl said softly and stood up.   
  
"Sempai?" Milly immediately stopped and frowned, worried. "Did I – ?"  
  
"Meryl?" I also ask. "What – ?"  
  
Meryl shook her head and looked directly at Milly. "It's nothing. I'm just – I'm just tired. That's all. Go on and finish your dinner." She paused for a moment and then quietly, "Vash I – "  
  
My head snapped up to her, but she wasn't even looking at me. "There's donuts by the sink. I'm sorry that I couldn't share them with you," she finished softly.   
  
Huh? "Thanks," I answer, confused.   
  
She nodded her head and was quickly gone. I wanted to ponder what had happened for a moment. She was upset. She'd probably found out about the bank. I should go and talk to her and – and think of an apology or something. It's not like I did anything wrong, but Meryl always seems to think it's my fault. I'll just save her the trouble and apologize now. Yeah. I should stand up now and follow her and tell her that I'm sorry for. . .whatever it is that she thinks I did wrong.   
  
"Mr. Vash?"  
  
"Yes?" Yes, Vash. Go. Apologize right now.   
  
"Would you like seconds?"  
  
Ummmm. . ."Yes please." Maybe after seconds. And donuts. Hey, I'm going to need all the strength I can get in order to grovel in front of Meryl.   
  
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Author's Notes 2: To follow in the words of one of my reviewers, "If you likee, reviewee!" 


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I *owned* Vash. (hehe)  
  
Author's Notes: Gasp! I'm actually still alive! I know some of you reviewers out there thought that I was no longer writing. I am. Really. But it's difficult to concentrate at this point. I only put up this chapter now because I have two papers due by Tuesday and I couldn't think of any other way of de-stressing than to hang out with my adorable Vash. So here's a new chapter. Enjoy! That is, after you go through the rambling list of acknowledgements. As always, have fun finding yourselves.  
  
Priestess_Midoriko: I hope the waiting paid off!   
  
Cloud-Bahamut: I also hope your waiting paid off!   
  
Melodic: I HAVE to finish this? Is that an order? Would you like fries with that? LOL.  
  
vashfan331: Hmm… "cliffhangers will be the death of me"…*pokes at prostrate body with stick* Are you still alive? Because I don't know how to explain dead reviewers to fanfic.net.   
  
Just A Weirdo: *returning stick* Thanks for the poking stick. I, er, used it to poke a reviewer. I hope you don't mind.   
  
Neptune21: *shouting* You don't have to stand so far away anymore! I'm done writing this chapter now so you can read over my shoulder. I won't mind.   
  
silent otaku: Surprisingly, I'm not as hilarious in real life. I wonder why that could be. *snaps fingers* Oh yeah! I forgot. The voices in my head tell me not to be. "Shut up!" "No you shut up!" "I am too funny!" Ahem. Excuse me while I medicate.   
  
Zarina: You thought you were reading a "Romance"? My dear, you've got it all wrong. I'm writing "Suspense." LOL.   
  
FireDemonKitsune84: "Update soon"? You know me better than that!   
  
angelspice_22: Why? What did your chem teacher do?   
  
Exeter: You think I don't ramble? Why thanks! As I was saying. . .  
  
the old fart: Always lovely to hear from you. Review and re-review as many times as you wish. And by the way, I'll have you know the kama sutra read-along DOES have sound effects. Or so I've been told. *grin*   
  
kitty-jinxx: *evil cackle* Please grovel. I don't mind groveling. Or donuts. Or Vash feeding me donuts. Ahem. Where was I again?  
  
Chiruken: I'm here to please!  
  
AnonymousTrigunOtaku: Thanks!  
  
Neptune Butterfly: I repeat: NO ONE is too old for stuffed animals. And I'm glad you liked the kitty!   
  
Sweet Sere: *re-reading review* Umm…thank you.   
  
Alpha Draconis1: Nope. No donuts left. I think Milly may have hidden them.   
  
Sets17: Love and peace to you too!  
  
Scarlet Rurouni: *drools in jealousy* I wish I had a cute bishounen slave to do things to…er, for me.   
  
Rainy-days13: Dum dum dum! And here's the next update!   
  
Vashfan: Hmm…have I seen you before?   
  
PurpleRoses: Softening up? Knives? Are you kidding me?   
  
Dreamer_of_Night: Fireworks? Do they celebrate Fourth of July on Gunsmoke?   
  
Bourgeois Babe: What do you think is going to happen?  
  
Magicalfoci: *in Sigmund Freud's voice* Yes. I believe Vash ze Stampede suffers from donuteculitis and Merylicutitis.   
  
Chibi Atto-san: *shaking head* And I thought _I_ was the only one around here with voices in my head.   
  
Weiila: Yes. Vash is silly ain't he? But that's what makes him so totally huggable!  
  
Tough Cookie: Do that again…the part where you quote me. (I just saw "Ever After" and that line, though I modified it, always gets me all…tingly.)   
  
Vashra BloodReeper: PMS? Meryl? Nooooo… *bonk* Ow! Damn it!   
  
wheelers_hanyou: New Mexico, huh? For some reason I thought you were Australian. But anyway…another chapter. Yay!   
  
evil squeede: Mood swings? Noooo *bonk* Ow! Damn it, Meryl! That comment was about Vash! Meryl: Sorry. Reflex.   
  
NeptuneHelena: Don't fall off the edge of your seat.   
  
Orion Kohaishu: Hmm…do you mean falafel? That's a type of bread, right?   
  
And speaking of bread. . .I love rye bread. I've just discovered grilled cheese sandwiches using rye bread is mmm. . .yummy. You just have to be careful that you clean the ironing board afterwards because that damn cheese doesn't come off so easily from your shirt that you need to use to get to work. That's my tip for all of you for today. Enjoy the chapter!   
  
**************  
  
Chapter 12  
  
Four helpings of stew and a box of donuts later. . .   
  
"Wow, Mr. Vash," Milly giggled. "No leftovers again!"  
  
"I guess not," I grin. It wasn't all my fault that there were no leftovers left. "Thanks for helping me, Milly."  
  
"I don't think you needed any help at all, Mr. Vash."  
  
I bowed to her graciously over the empty bowls. "But you insisted, Milly!"  
  
She blushed and her giggle turned into a full laugh. "Sempai is going to be very happy that it was all gone."  
  
"I don't know about that Milly," I say. "She didn't really eat much and I doubt she's going to be very happy when she finds no leftovers in the middle of the night."  
  
For a moment, Milly looked contritely at Meryl's empty place. But the moment quickly passed. "Well there's always the other box of donuts," she says brightly.   
  
"That's right," I say eagerly, ready to sprint for the other box still left on the kitchen counter.   
  
"Mr. Vash," she gently reprimands.   
  
I hesitate. "Huh?"  
  
"Sempai, Mr. Vash," she says gently. She gives me a meaningful look, raising her eyebrows as if I should have figured it (whatever *it* was) out already.   
  
"But it's donuts, Milly! Donuts!"   
  
She blinked and the expectant look was gone. "Sempai might be hungry later, Mr. Vash."   
  
"Oh. That." The sweet delicacy and instant gratification of donuts and Meryl completely pissed off at me? Or. . . the agony of letting food go to waste and having Meryl worry (and probably also pissed off) that I didn't eat the donuts? There was no way in hell I was going to win so. . ."But Milly–" I raise my eyes imploringly. "Donuts."  
  
Milly smiles at me, that smile that always makes me think she sees the world as children see it: innocent, hopeful. "Fine," I grumble. *sigh* It's Meryl over donuts any day anyway. Well, maybe every other day. Meryl one day, donuts the next. Or yummiest of all yummies. . . Meryl feeding me donuts. Yummm…."I was only hoping, Milly."  
  
"I know you were."  
  
"What?" Did I say that last yum out loud? "Uh, what was that?"  
  
"I knew you were hoping."  
  
"Hoping for what?"  
  
Millly's puzzled look was classic. "For donuts, Mr. Vash. Isn't that what you said."  
  
"Er, yeah. Of course, the donuts. He he," I laugh uncomfortably.   
  
She laughs again and I knew that the laughter was genuine. "You are funny, Mr. Vash. I can't understand why sempai always gets mad around you. You're always funny."  
  
"And charming," I add.  
  
She grinned. "That too," she responded and stood to start cleaning up.   
  
"Wait a minute," I protest.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"It's my turn to clean up."   
  
"No, it isn't," Milly said in surprise. "It's sempai's."  
  
"Well, yes, technically it is, but I should do it. It's only fair." Yeah, because who knows what reason that woman's mind can come up with just to be angry at me. She's probably going to scream at me for never helping out and blah, blah, blah.   
  
"You should let me help," Milly says cheerfully.   
  
"No, it's okay. I'm trying to be fair."   
  
"Are you sure, Mr. Vash?"  
  
"Of course! I haven't broken _that_ many dishes," I joke. "Besides it's the least I can do after such a good meal." I grin wider and pat my very satisfied stomach.   
  
Milly giggled.   
  
"I didn't know you were such a good cook, Milly!"  
  
Milly beamed brightly and grinned. "Thanks, Mr. Vash, but – "  
  
"Don't be modest, Milly," I nudge her playfully. "You're a good cook."   
  
"But – "  
  
Thinking she was protesting all the more, I grab one of the soiled plates from her hand and add, "Even Knives finished it all and didn't complain! Well, didn't complain as verbally as usual."   
  
Milly's smile widened. "You're welcome, Mr. Vash. But I really didn't do anything."  
  
I wag my finger at her in admonishment. "You shouldn't say that, Milly."  
  
"Really, Mr. Vash. I didn't do anything."   
  
"Of course you did," I insist, a little confused. "Who else would have done the cooking? Meryl?" I add in disbelief.   
  
Milly's eyes crinkled in amusement. "I didn't do any of the cooking."   
  
Oh no. Meryl? "What?" She can't be serious. Meryl can't cook. "But who – ?"  
  
"Well, I wanted to say goodbye to all the kids at the bank. I _had_ to say goodbye before they left with their parents. I just couldn't let them go after all we've shared without one last goodbye so. . .so I told sempai."  
  
I almost drop a plate. "You what?" I say loudly, my mind reeling. Wait a minute, wait a minute! What the hell was going on? Meryl *can't* cook. I mean she never did. I – I. . .Oh hell. I sneak a look at the black cat for answers but he too was asleep. I refuse to believe what my mind is trying to imply. "What – what did you say?"   
  
"I told sempai." Milly shrugged and tears shimmered in her eyes momentarily. "I couldn't help it. I had to tell her that we lost our jobs and that I just had to say goodbye to the kids. So we switched for today. She offered to cook and I would do tomorrow's shopping. She didn't mind. She even said something about waiting for you to show up. Then we all had ice cream and cookies and donuts before they left."  
  
"You what?" My, I was repetitive today. "You and Meryl had ice cream and cookies?"   
  
Milly stares at me as if I had just turned stupid. Not too hard a stretch if it was Meryl. But from Milly the look seems. . .disturbing. "The kids and I. I just told you over dinner. It was fun. You would have liked it Mr. Vash," she added. "Sempai probably got here before me to have finished so much cooking."  
  
"To – to cook?" I stutter.   
  
"Yes." Milly laughed girlishly. "You didn't think she could cook, did you? You should be complimenting her on her cooking." A light seemed to suddenly go on in Milly's eyes and she snapped her fingers. "Maybe that's why she's upset, Mr. Vash. You should go and tell her you liked her cooking."   
  
  
  
"But – but what about the tray?" I ask, my voice rising slightly in panic. Okay. I can believe the cooking but I refuse to make the connection with the tray. She couldn't have! She just couldn't have!   
  
She tilted her head in question. "Tray? What tray?"  
  
I giggle nervously. Screwed. I am so totally screwed. And dead. Yup. She's heard the confession. Meryl has heard me confess to Knives. Oh yeah. I might as well have shouted it out loud. I am so totally screwed. Knives is going to be sooo pleased that I am going to be sooo tortured.   
  
"Mr. Vash? What's the matter?"  
  
"Oh nothing, nothing." Nothing but my ass on the line. I hope that Meryl didn't hear me. I hope she didn't hear Knives either. I hope that I'm wrong on both hopes.   
  
Dammit. I know I might as well stop hoping. I *know* she heard us. How could she not have? I might as well have put up a sign over my head with her name surrounded by big glowing hearts. Yeah. That would have totally scared her.   
  
Oh dear.   
  
"Maybe you can go tonight and tell her."  
  
That I love her? "Tell her what?"  
  
"Tell her that she's a good cook, Mr. Vash. What else?"  
  
What else indeed? You are an idiot, Vash! Why didn't you notice? She must have heard you. She must have! There was no other way she couldn't have. The tray. The cooking. The medical kit ready on the table. She'd been there the whole time. She'd been getting ready to take care of Knives (well, to glare at Knives anyway). She'd been there. How could she not have heard? Wait a minute! Why didn't she knock!? Oh wait. Of course she wouldn't have knocked. Why would she? It wasn't like there were any secrets in the house. It wasn't like she usually knocked on Knives's door. Oh damn, I'm rambling.   
  
"Mr. Vash?"  
  
"Yes, Milly?"  
  
"Are you really okay?"  
  
"Yes, Milly."  
  
"Do you want a donut?"  
  
I smile at her, goofy as always. I can't refuse. She's going to know that something really is wrong if I refuse. "Sure!"  
  
Milly laughed. "I don't think we should, Mr. Vash. Sempai might be hungry later, remember?"  
  
"Right," I reply brightly but inside I don't really feel it. In fact, I feel like the stew and the first box of donuts were having the worst gunfight on Gunsmoke ever. She knows. What the hell am I going to do now?   
  
*****************  
  
Author's Notes: I almost forgot! Happy Valentine's Day everybody! 


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I owned Vash. (hehe)

Author's Notes: Yes, I am still alive. Yes, I am still procrastinating. No, I cannot procrastinate at will. It's a process which will someday probably cause me to be consumed in madness. Okay, enough drama. Hellooooooo my dear and faithful reviewers! Yes, I am still here. I thought about waiting until the reviews got to a quarter of a thousand but then I realized that my fingers would bleed from responding to the reviewers, which by the way I do not mind at all (The responding to reviewers NOT the bleeding.). So in the kind, procrastinating goodness of my heart, I thought I should update. (Besides, I want the reviewers to put a kind word in to Santa for me if I've warmed any hearts. LOL) SO here it is! And not wanting to break with tradition, here are my responses. Find yourself!

hbice: Okay, I updated. So you won't be sad. It's my last good deed for the year. So Santa doesn't get mad.

inkydoo: I found something to procrastinate over!

Lindsey: Thanks! I'm trying!

Genesis: So I'm a bad author. If you can find Vash the Stampede to come and punish me (snicker) I would be oh so grateful.

pat : Laziness & writer's block. Bad combination. Procrastination and chocolate. Good combination.

little Villian: Who's "jeebus"? LOL

Crystal Music: (mumble, mumble)

betsytheripper: (author winces at imminent death threats) Um…here. A new update. Please don't hurt me. Much.

cjflutterbye: Tada! And here I am again!

vashluver1: And this is me rambling ? I wonder what I should have for dinner? Does cheese stink to molds? Why are they called molds anyway? Aren't they fungi? And if I have a pizza with mushrooms isn't that like fungi overload because of the yeast and the cheese and the mushrooms? And . . .

kat: Yes, I heard the girl(s) begging. I wonder now if there are any guys reading this fic? Or is it only rabid fan girls?

sharpshooterjane: You like granny too? I'm so glad!

DailyMassacre: (putting hand to head in pain) Did you have to shake so hard? Now I can't think for the next chapter.

Crystal Twilight: (channeling Vash channeling Elvis) Well, thank you. Thank you very much. Love and Peace.

NinaWilliamsTheSilentAssassin: Yes indeed! Meryl and Vash forever! And gasp! You count the months I don't update?

wheelershanyou : Where did I go? To a very deep, very dark place called college where many go and none leave unscathed.

Divinya9: I got scared when you said you would hunt me down, so I thought I should update.

Aryanne: Thank you for ALL the updates!!!!!

Valraven: For some strange, inexplicable reason, your review made me laugh. Weird.

Sesshomarusgirl123: As you wish. (Bishie points for whoever can tell me where that line comes from.)

Buddi-chan: And I've updated. Happy? )

geranium: Bwahahahahaha! I'm glad you share my sick sense of humor.

Crystal Mage: Okay, I'm stupid as an author. I procrastinate and I have no idea what WAFFy means. Please don't pelt me with tomatoes for that. Or else I might just go into hiding. Again.

SpikesFanGirl: Frankly, I don't know what Vash will do. Do you? LOL

Sunsilver: As I write this (with a big grin on my face), I can tell you had fun reading it! I'm glad!

dark-pyro-angel-2: For the love of Vash, I will write soon.

ScreamsOfTheDead: Yes he is, isn't he?

DecoyNeko: And I give you even more pining. Aren't I evil?

LoveChild of Gehenna: (innocent look) What do you mean by that comment? I would never do anything to Vash. Bwahahahaha

Just A Weirdo: Um. . .nice wall of poking sticks you have there. (author slinks away uncomfortably)

BPE Exeter: Sorry. Chapters short. Author bad. Bad, bad author. Chapters continue to be short. Reviewer must cope. (grin)

wheelershanyou: I don't abandon my reviewers! Never! I just go into periods of forced exile.

the old fart: (holds up stack of papers grimly) Your threat to the professors worked too well.

Furys Canticle : Hmm…you have aliens in your head too? Do they say nano-nano and dance the oompah-loompah dance?

Elbereth Silimaur: Well, I don't know if this chapter will help any, but here it is.

vashfan311: Yes, it is a hobby of mine to make Vash suffer.

Yaoi Addict: LOL. Okay, I'm updating. . .now.

Weiila: I hit it. The block I mean. Then life kicked in. But I found something to procrastinate over. Great isn't it? LOL

Alpha Draconis1: Vash, cannot die. He simply can't. I won't let him. (author glares at suggestion, not at reviewer)

nekura : Ajglajgfoaufoude. . .oops, I thought you were speaking in gibberish, so I was going to respond in kind. Turns out you were just excited. Cool.

Dee Saylors: (gasp!) You didn't review each chapter? I'm so unloved.

ShadowDemonGengar: Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! Okay! I'm updating! Put the poking stick back on the poking stick wall!

Orion Kohaishu: Thank you Orion and Sean. And yes, I did take "that" any way I wished. (giggle)

evil squeede: Pathetic? You haven't seen pathetic yes. (rubs hands evilly over keyboard)

kagomeandinuyasha4ever : I don't know about the ASAP part, but I've updated.

Edoras: And rabid fans will know! Later. Bwahahahahaha!

Vashra BloodReeper: No honey. We aren't there yet in the car ride that is this Vash and Meryl fanfic. But you should have thought of that before we left. (LOL. Just like being on Summer vacation traveling to Florida.)

Neptune Butterfly: Damn! It's been that long since I updated? No wonder some of the rabid fans are upset!

Rainy-days13: Yup. It took a while, but there is hope at the end of the tunnel.

Snapdragon76: Yes. I had lots and lots and lots and lots of distress and tests. Unfortunately, not all of it produced procrastination.

Neptune21: Thank you for not joining in the poke-the-author-til-she-updates-or-bleeds-fest.

And that was that! So for those of you with "author alert" on, Merry Christmas! And for those of you who don't, well, Merry Christmas anyway.

* * *

Chapter 13

You know, tip-toeing quietly is not easy for a guy my height to do. It's not easy because 1) being this tall, every movement takes longer and more energy to make and 2) the assorted buckles that adorn my clothes seem to make all sorts of inconceivable noises that I've just never noticed before.

There's the one over my hip that goes 'skeek, skeek, skeek' every time I turn. There's the one right by my knee that does this 'urk' noise when I bend. And there's the one over my – uh – sensitive areas that kind of does a 'k-chesh' whenever my coat brushes over it. Then there's the 'nyao' noise.

Wait, let me make that clear. The one that goes 'nyao' is not an attached belt buckle but the cat which has taken into its head that it's some sort of pet. Milly, of course, has already welcomed it to the household, right after she saw it looking hungrily at my donuts. "Wow, Mr. Vash! He's the color of dark chocolate pudding!" she'd exclaimed before the slightly happy glaze that colors her eyes whenever she thinks of pudding suddenly took control. "And he's just like us!"

Like us? "What'd you say, Milly?"

But Milly wasn't paying attention to me at that point. She was busy petting the cat and meowing. And let me make that clear that it was Milly meowing and not the cat. "Awwww! You're all alone in the desert too, huh?" she'd exclaimed, on the verge of being teary eyed. "What are you doing out here by your lonesome?"

_Nyao!_ the cat responded and gave me a look.

Milly looked up at me, puzzled. "Oh him? He's the Humanoid Typhoon."

_Nyao!_

Milly shook her head and laughed. "Oh he's not dangerous at all!"

Thank you, Milly, for defending me against a cat.

_Nyao? _

Milly's eyes looked puzzled. "Oh him? I don't know. I don't think he minds."

Huh? What the hell was Milly talking about now? It was hard enough sometimes understanding what Milly was trying to tell me. Adding a cat to the mix didn't help matters at all! And since when did Milly talk to cats?

_Nyao_, the cat demanded.

"I'm quite sure," Milly said happily. "I think it even helps a little when you're around."

I was about to interrupt but the cat kept on meowing like it understood.

_Nyao? Nyao, nyao, nyao?_

"Of course!" Milly laughed. "We'll be your family, Kuroneko-sama!"

Then there were two very happy, very similar, very freaky (because they were so similar) meows. From both Milly and the cat.

Just great. So now, we're the cat's family. One big screwed up family.

_Nyao? _the cat mewled softly in question again, asking me what the hell we were doing in this hallway.

"Shh," I whisper irritably. This cat wasn't making things any easier for me.

I continue my tip-toeing towards Meryl's room. I don't know why I'm tip-toeing but it just seems more appropriate this way although it makes me seem like a pervert. In Meryl's eyes anyway. I mean, come on! If she happens to come out of her door and see me, she's going to accuse me of trying to sneak to her door to peek through her keyhole (and even though the thought had occurred to me, since I am a guy after all, I would not be so disrespectful as to actually do that!).

So in the short but so interminably large space that separated me from the door, I practiced what I was going to say.

I'm sorry, Meryl, but I have to say this: Milly and I lost our jobs today and it wasn't my fault I swear and. . . and. . .I love you.

Hmm. . . No good.

Hey, short insurance girl! You know your cooking is improving lately and Knives even ate it all and even the cat likes it and I love you.

(_cough_) Yeah, right, like that was any good either.

Hey Meryl, you know that Knives, my dear wonderful brother is a jerk and what he really said was a joke and –

Okay, that wasn't good either. That one, I actually felt a mental thwack of a small fist connecting with my head before I could finish my sentence.

Damn it! I wanted to kick myself in frustration.

_Nyao? _the cat looked up in amused puzzlement.

Yeah, I'm confused too, buddy.

The door to Meryl's room suddenly opened and for a moment I panicked. Now was my chance! Tell her that you appreciate her! Tell her that it wasn't a joke! Tell her that you loved her cooking! Tell her. . .that you love her!

_Nyao? _the cat said happily. And I moved quickly to her door.

Meryl turned and made a small sound of surprise.

"What are you doing here, kitty-cat?" Meryl asked. "Did Milly let you up here?"

_Nyao, _the cat said and ambled its way to Knives's door.

For a moment, Meryl made as if to stop him. Then with a slight smug smile, she opened the door wider to Knives's room and practically escorted the cat in, leaving the door slightly opened as if by accident. And with a small shrug and a last look in the hallway, she went back into her room

I sighed. From my hiding place pressed against the wall where her door had blocked me.

Now why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I hide?

There was a throbbing in my head and my stomach that had nothing to do with the threat of Meryl's fist connecting with my head.

Why couldn't I say it out loud? It was so easy to say in my head! Really, why the hell couldn't I say it out loud!

Three words. Okay, four, counting her name: Meryl, I love you.

And Knives is an incomprehensible idiot who does not know when to keep his mouth shut.

I grin. That last would make her happy. Even if I garbled the confession so much that she didn't understand me.

I can do this! I'm the Humanoid Typhoon for heaven's sake! I dodge bullets, protect the weak, chase the elusive mayfly of love and peace. I can confess to one woman that I love her. Four words. That's all that I need to say. Four words: Meryl, I love you.

Okay. Practice one last time. Slow, deep breaths.

Meryl. I. Love. You.

I raise my hand to knock, the words ready in my mouth, and – and –

Stop.

I can't do it. What if it was all in my head? What if I ruined what fragile friendship we have just because I needed her so much? What if the confession only made her withdraw? Leave Milly. Leave my brother. Leave me. What if she doesn't love me back?

I can't do it.

Unwillingly, heavily, my hand falls to my side.

I love her. I know this. But I also know that I'm not the only one who needs her. Milly needs her. Knives needs her. A confession would jeopardize all that we have now. I cannot risk Milly or Knives much as I long for her and hunger for her. Besides, how could she ever love me? If she heard Knives' and my little argument, she probably even dislikes me now. I know she could never return my feelings. How could she? The great Vash the Stampede. Hah! Broken and imperfect. And her, so pure, so perfect. What was I even thinking? I'm so sorry, Meryl, I mouth at the door.

For a moment I thought I heard movement from the other side of the door and I listen very closely. But there was only silence.

I love you Meryl, I say in my head. But what comes out my mouth is a whispered, "Goodnight, Insurance-girl."

It is then that I feel the furry little body circling around my ankles. "I'm causing problems again, aren't I?" I mutter to the cat which was once again wandering the hallway.

_Nyao._

"What do you think?"

_Nyao!_

"I should leave, shouldn't I?"

_Nyao? _

"Maybe you're right." I stare at the cat grimly. "It should be fun traveling with a maniacal, narcoleptic brother."

_Nyao. _

I'm not sure but that could have been a 'yes.' Or, a 'baka.' But since I don't really speak cat, he was of no help whatsoever. (_sigh) _Well, off to sleep I go then. If sleep could come now.

"Good night, Kuroneko-sama," I whisper to the cat and surprisingly it purrs its way down the hallway and straight back into Knives's bedroom, its tail swaying as if in laughter.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I do not own Meryl, or Milly, or Wolfwood, or Vash, or Knives or even the cute little black kitty. I simply write fanfiction in my spare time. Though sometimes I really, really, really wish I owned Vash. (hehe)

* * *

Author's Notes: Well folks, it's been really, really fun. Thank you for riding out my roller-coaster of procrastination, for traveling through the mind of Vash, and for indulging me in my travels through the mind of Vash. The New Year's come, the old one's gone, time to start and renew and end the old. So with that in mind, here is the last chapter of "Hunger and Need" at your fingertips. As per tradition, find yourself before going on!

Inkydoo: But my dear, Vash _does_ have donuts for brains sometimes! Though sometimes he has Meryl _on_ the brain.

Vashluver1: Updated. Sooner than I thought. Man, I must be depressed.

Divinya9: Unfortunately, no Vash in my stocking. Maybe next year.

cjflutterbye: _(Author consulting Magic 8 Ball ™) _Chances are good.

Ajd262: I plan it out you know. Because I'm an evil author, I plan it so that you will _have_ to re-read all the chapters again. Bwahahahahaha!

Buddi-chan: Awww. But it's quite alright to be evil sometimes. And "fwah" to you too. Whatever that means.

Gradolphin: I don't quit writing. I just go into very, very, very long hiatus.

snwbnny: As you wish dear bunny.

evil squeede: _(Goggling at reviewer.) _I – I'm speechless. I didn't know Vash had all these psychological problems. My goodness! I never should have had that brain transplant no matter how momentary!

Valk: I would. But things must come to an end on their own.

Crystal Twilight: (_smirk)_ You'll see.

kagomeandinuyasha4ever: Thank you for saying I rock. I needed that. Badly.

pat : _(Takes chocolate and gains massive amounts of weight from it.) _Crap! I mean. . .thanks!

SapphireWhiteTigress: _(Grin)_ See my review for AJD.

Author's Notes: And relentlessly forward we go!

* * *

**Chapter 14**

It has been hours since I've been at Meryl's door and _still _I cannot sleep. I keep replaying the scenes in my head, wondering what could have been avoided, what could have been changed: _If _Knives and I hadn't argued _then_ Meryl would never had heard.

_If _Meryl and Milly hadn't switched places _then _Meryl would have never heard.

_If _Knives wasn't such a psychotic, baiting bastard _then _Meryl would never have come to the door and . . . heard.

_If, if, if, if_.

That last "if" was of course the most impossible one. There was nothing in the whole day that had not been planned out by Fate, the gods, or whatever else deities there might exist in the universe to make my life a complete and miserable hell. It was so perfectly miserable, in fact, that Knives would have been jealous that he had not been the one responsible for it. It always happens that way: My life gets all great (Rem) and then boom! Destruction! (Crash, flame, burn.) Things are better (me and Knives, two against the world) and then bang! (Just me. Alone. Psychotic brother. Alone.) Things for the worst always seemed to follow me. Sadly, that was part of the reason to the only solution that I could possibly think of now. My old standby. My faithful companion. My angst. Leaving.

Yup. I really should leave.

Heh. Not a surprise, huh? Yes, people should expect that of me by now. Don't they know that I'm an angsty bastard who leaves when any sort of whiff of emotional _fulfillment_ or dear-me-oh-my-gasp _LOVE_ comes into even touching distance? Don't they know this of me now? People should really, really realize that I will never think of myself as deserving of someone as perfect and pure as Meryl! Or that her, most of all, will probably come to the same end as all the others.

But then again, why not? Why can't I have Meryl? Why can't this time, _this time_, be different?

Because it can't. Meryl would never turn to me. The way she flinched from me had been indication enough of her feelings. Meryl, could never love me. It would be too much to ask. I mean, how could she? Broken and imperfect man (Plant, Vash! Plant! Get it right!) that I am, how could I ever expect her to love me? And even if she had heard me, how much more would it be utterly unfair to ask her to love me?

"Stupid," I snort softly into the darkness. _Sigh. _"Well, Vash the Stampede, time to get a move on again."

I'm so sorry, Meryl, I say silently. I'm so sorry for putting you in this position. I'm so sorry that one morning not long from now, you will not find me nor Knives. I'm so sorry that I'm so in love with you and you can never return those feelings. I'm sorry for what I've put you through in so many ways. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I could feel myself getting sleepier and sleepier. The phrase "I'm so sorry, Meryl" running over and over in my head like a sadistic mantra to put me to sleep, jumping past me like sheep with the words printed on their sides (Though hell knows where I got my picture of sheep; must've been from Rem because I've never seen sheep on Gunsmoke.). And I fall asleep, the loss of Meryl already palpable in my gut and stealing little nips of pain at my heart.

In the middle of the night, my senses suddenly tingle. Something waking me from a disturbing dream about Grandma and Knives making bets over who could outdrink who and Knives threatening to make Spider Web Wine. Something that fills the room with. . ._something. _

I cannot describe the presence. Not danger, but there is something else. In my room. Incredibly. . .chaotic. Knives?

I sit up in bed and swing my legs over, aware that someone is watching me even before I am fully awake. My hand automatically reaches for my gun. I reach out my senses again but there is still no hint of danger. Thoughts flicker through my head. What could it be? No, not Knives. The chaos _could_ be him but not this time. This one is different, laced with an undercurrent of sad regret. Knives would not regret so easily. Besides, he's asleep. I would have sensed anything from him. No sense of danger outside either. The whole moonlit world is at peace. Then what?

Everything happens in the few seconds it takes me to reach for my gun and my eyes go to the doorway and find her and my hand stops, the steel of the guns close enough to touch.

She stands there with her arms wrapped around her, the door closed behind her, wearing that white nightshirt that haunted my dreams, hinted at what was beneath. The faint light of the moons lit her with an otherworldly beauty. Maybe I'm dreaming again. Maybe when I blink she will be gone, another figment of my dreams. I close my eyes and open them again and she is still there. I try again, using my hand this time to run over my deceitful eyes. Didn't work. This was either a damned good dream or she was for real. I decide to chance speaking.

"Meryl? What's wrong?"

She jumped when I spoke. Wow! This _was_ real. She was here. How long had she been there? How long did I just let her watch me sleep? My heart hurt at the realization that I trusted her enough even in my sleep. She was so close, so close. And so completely unreachable. "Meryl?"

"I didn't know you were still awake," she says. Her breath catches in her throat.

I laughed softly. Softly. Don't scare her away. "I sleep lightly," I say, smiling into the dark. And you don't seem to sleep at all, insurance-girl. "What's wrong?" I repeat. "Is something wrong?"

"I – " she says in a strangled voice. "I heard you at the door."

My stomach clenches. _My beautiful Meryl. My second savior. _"Oh? What did you hear?"

"I – I thought something was wrong."

"Wrong?" I ask gently. "What could be wrong?" Besides my psychotic brother, my confession which you probably heard and now despise me for, and my screwed-up miserable existence? Hah! What in the galaxy's name could _possibly be wrong?_ "There's nothing wrong at all."

"Vash?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you apologize to me?"

Huh? I don't remember apologizing out loud. In fact, I don't remember apologizing at all for any particular thing. I remember _apologies_. Lots and lots of apologies.

"At the door," she continued, almost as if reading my silent thoughts. "Before – before you told me goodnight, you said that you were sorry. I just wondered – " she stopped abruptly, swallowing, her mouth seeming to have run out of questions.

"Vash?" she whispers now.

Oh Meryl. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I've put you in this position. I'm so sorry that you cannot love me back. I'm so sorry for everything. For Knives, for me, for everything we've put you through. "Yes?" I answer gently, my heartbeat seems to have caught itself somewhere below my adam's apple.

"I – "

It is then that I realize that she had simply called me Vash, not donut head or pervert or broom head or anything nasty. Just _Vash_. Twice in a row. I sit up straighter, looking at her quizzically. She licks her lips nervously and I wonder what she sees in my own eyes, here in the dim light.

"Vash," she begins again. (The third time she calls me by my name!)

"Yes, Meryl?"

"I heard you earlier today. With Knives. And I – I just – "

Oh no! My mouth opens to say something. An apology. An explanation. Anything! But nothing comes out. Curse this uncooperative tongue of mine! Curse it and may it never taste another donut for a week!

"Meryl," I try again. "I'm sor – "

But I never finish my sentence. She gulps audibly and in a rush of white cloth and a flurry of shadow she is at my bedside, trembling visibly.

So close. So close.

"I know you don't because of what you said to Knives. But I – I – "

Don't what? What did I say to Knives? What is she talking about? "What?"

"Don't make me say it," she whispers.

"Say what?" Say that you want me to leave? Say that you hate me? Say, how dare you Vash? How dare you do this to me?

"That I love you," she chokes out.

There is profound and perfect stillness in the world; silence on the brink. Tears tighten my throat for a moment and I cannot speak. She just told me she loves me. Meryl has just told me that she loves me! I want to scream out my joy, shout to the whole of the galaxy that the woman I love has just told me she loves me back. "Meryl, I – ," I begin, breaking the silence into a million glorious shards of joy. My throat is still tight and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I clear my throat and start again but cannot finish. It is too much. My chest wants to burst apart in happiness.

"I understand," she says softly. Then she nods, bitter tears glistening in her eyes, and turns away.

My hand reaches out to grasp her wrist, stopping her in midstride. She keeps her head turned away from me. "I love you, too, Meryl."

She turns to me then, her face tight and pained. The half-contained sobs waver into her voice. "You don't have to say it, Vash. I – I heard you and Knives. You – you don't have to pretend."

Heard me and Knives? But I as near confessed to Knives as I possibly could have unless – "Meryl? What did you hear?"

"You said that you didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"You're going to make me say it again?"

An annoyed, exasperated tone enters her voice. The hiccupy sobs are gone, replaced by what I recognize as warning signs of an impending headache on my part. I want to laugh.I _almost_ laugh and stop myself in time. "You should have stayed for the whole show, Meryl," I whisper. "Then you would have heard the whole confession."

"What? That you hate me as well?" she asks bitterly.

"No. That I love you," I manage to say without my voice shaking too badly. "And – "

"And?"

"And I need you." There. I can't believe I just said that. I can't breathe.

"Vash," she whispers gently in the warm darkness. My name is a wonderment in her mouth; a question and a caress. "Vash," she repeats. Then she sobs. "I thought it was all a joke. I thought Knives was being cruel again. And I heard you say you didn't love me and you were going to leave and – "

"Shh," I say to her. "I'm not, Meryl. I'm here." My throat tightens again, but I manage to say the words this time, clearly so that there won't be any more misunderstandings, "And I do love you. And – and I will never leave as long as you want me."

There is profound silence from her. She stands so still, almost as if she weren't breathing, and not knowing what else to say, I reach out for her at the same time she reaches for me, trembling and oh so real. We both release a breath we did not know we had been holding.

As she sighs and twines her arms around my neck, I do what I have been longing to do for so long, plotting to do for so long. I hug her. I slip her into my lap, gentle and small, and she curves into me, her face buried in my neck, her mouth warm and small against my skin and I wrap my arms around her tightly.

"I can feel your heartbeat," she says wonderingly against my chest.

"And I can feel yours," I say back. I'm not sure where one stops and where the other begins but my heart thunders in my chest. "Meryl, I – "

But I cannot speak anymore as she lays fingers against my mouth, silencing, gently stroking, encouraging. As in the dreams, I lean down to cover her mouth with mine. There is no desperation, no frantic movements. Just a tender passion that fills me and seems to expand outward until my heart is in danger of exploding. It is indescribable and better than what I could have dreamed or imagined and for a moment I feel panic that any moment I will wake up, alone once more. But Meryl's mouth opens under mine, welcoming and eager and she deepens the kiss before she has to pull away for breath.

"You're still here," I say softly.

She frowns in puzzlement for a moment before I reach for her again and the puzzlement disappears.

As I draw her into my arms and into my bed, I am unsurprised to see in her eyes what I knew had always been in my heart. Love. Hunger. Need. It was a love that I had no conscious thought of ever having a beginning, so deep and natural and instinctual as it had been. It was a hunger for her I knew had always been in my own eyes. It was a need for her that had traveled through the desert with me to settle in my soul and nag at my heart. And now in her eyes was an answering love and hunger and need. For me. For me!

At this point, the fleeting thought runs through my head that it hadn't been donuts she was staring at that one time, and a thrilling tingle runs through me even while tears threaten my eyes once more and my heart contracts painfully in happiness.

I kiss her again deepening the contact between us, telling her with my mouth and my hands and my body all the things I cannot say in words. She makes a noise in the back of her throat in answer.

"I love you," I say against her lips.

"Idiot," she laughs softly. "I know."

* * *

Author's Notes: That's all folks! Happy New Year! 


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